Went through the grind of getting visa, then the work permit, then the different visa, then the short-term residence permit.
Changed jobs, had to go to the immigration department again, because these residence permits are tied to the employer.
Kept a spreadsheet with dates of each exit and entry.
Had to keep all my paperwork ducks in a row.
To be able to get married, I had to get a permit from a judge.
Got married and had to go through the immigration office again, as this changed the primary purpose of my stay yet again. The queue to the immigration office was so long that I had to come there at 2am (yes, 2 in the morning) to even have a chance to file my paperwork.
Still had to keep the spreadsheet with exit/entry dates, the printout was attached to each application.
Went to another city to pass the language exam to be able to get the long-term residence permit.
In a couple of years, applied for citizenship. Had to go visit my birth country and gather some more paperwork from there, get it translated.
All the while it all felt as if I was a student again and this was an important exam each and every time. Stressed. Constantly afraid that a document would be missing and I would need to start over.
Then finally they texted me. I went to collect the papers that certified that I now was the citizen of my new country, almost ten years after starting the quest. I could apply for my new shiny national ID. I now wasn't a second-class person anymore.
Upon leaving the government building, I felt nothing. I had expected that with all that stress and buildup, some kind of relief would come. But it never came. No relief, no joy, not a sausage.
I remember that the weather was miserable on that day.