Foreign Mother: From Victim of Domestic Violence to Distant Parent

Trigger warning: This blog contains descriptions of domestic violence, court proceedings, and parental custody loss. Reader discretion is advised.

What happens when a mother leaves an abusive relationship to protect her child only to be punished by the very system that was supposed to help her? This anonymous blog shares one woman’s lived experience navigating Finland’s family court system as a foreign mother and survivor of domestic violence. Her story is painful, and honest- and sadly, not uncommon among intercultural families.

I never imagined that speaking out about the abuse I was enduring would lead me to loose custody of my child and see her only once every second weekend. Yet, that became my reality. It all started during a meeting with a social worker when my ex-husband claimed, “I had no choice but to threaten them with an axe. She wouldn’t listen to me.” The social worker responded, “You need to trust him more. He IS a good father.”

​In April 2022, I packed a backpack, grabbed my 2.5-year-old child’s stroller, and fled to the local shelter for domestic violence victims. A few days before, I had called the shelter, asking whether I could come due to the abuse I was suffering, including forced sexual acts, physical violence, and having my hair ripped out. I was overwhelmed with panic and denial, unsure of what was really happening. But even in that moment of fear, I never thought that leaving an abusive relationship would result in losing my child.

We stayed at the shelter for a month and a half while we explored our options. During a meeting with a custody counsellor, the "lastenvalvoja," I was told something that I would later regret: “It doesn’t matter where the child’s address is, as long as it’s somewhere.” I naively agreed, thinking that our child would live with me and visit her father every second weekend and on some afternoons.

​However, after moving out of our shared apartment and settling into my new life with our child, things took a turn for the worse. My ex-husband began making threats, including one to take his own life, and move away if I didn’t pay him to let me move away. He blackmailed me into breaking the custody agreement, and I lived in constant fear, feeling like I had no choice but to give in to his demands.

After a year of living like this, everything reached a breaking point. One afternoon, when my ex came to pick up our child, our child had a tantrum and hit him. We both froze in terror as he growled at us, demanding our child stop immediately. I was too scared to react, fearing that any move could provoke his violent outbursts, knowing how quickly he had threatened me with a knife in the past. He told me that he needed to teach the child that violence was the answer to violence, “because that’s how the real world works.”

​The next day, I took our child out of daycare and left for the shelter once again. This time, we weren’t welcomed warmly. The staff at the shelter accused me of “taking my child away from the father” to protect her from violence. I was confused and terrified that he might harm our child. The social worker pressured me to leave, warning that I could lose my child for taking it away from the father. Reluctantly, I texted my ex to come and pick our child up from the shelter. The social worker handed my child over to him, and I left the shelter alone.

After that, I had no choice but to initiate court proceedings. I was emotionally drained, and it felt like yet another mistake in a series of failed attempts when the court decided on a 50:50 custody arrangement. My ex-husband used this ruling as leverage, blackmailing and threatening me further, saying, “No one will believe you because you’re just a foreign mother, a scum.”

​I pushed the court for further intervention, but the ruling that followed left me in shock. Despite all the evidence of abuse and our tumultuous relationship, the court decided that our child would live with the father. The reasoning was that our child had “lived her whole life in the city” (which was untrue) and would have a sibling there. I was portrayed as a parent who couldn’t support the relationship with the father due to the abuse allegations, while he was seen as the more stable parent who could better support for the child.

In the end, the court awarded custody to the father, with visitation for me limited to every second weekend. On top of that, the court ruled that I would have no say in decisions regarding preschool or education, citing our strained dynamic and my supposed failure to “understand” why I kept raising the issue of abuse.

I never expected to be in this position, but here I am: a mother fighting for the right to protect her child, only to be silenced by the very system meant to help. This is the story of how I went from being a victim of domestic violence to becoming a distant parent, struggling to maintain a relationship with the one person I love more than anything: my child.

At Familia, we work alongside intercultural families going through difficult transitions; from parenting in two cultures to seeking safety, support, and understanding in moments of crisis. We believe every family deserves to be seen, heard, and treated with fairness and dignity. 

Written by: anonymous contributor