For a long time, I believed surviving meant simply getting through the day. As a mother facing years of domestic violence, my world grew smaller and smaller. Every decision felt heavy. Every moment carried tension. Looking back, I realise my journey became one of rebuilding safety for both myself and my children.
I learned to stay quiet. I learned to stay careful. Most of all, I learned to keep going because my children deserved a life better than the one we were trapped in.
Domestic violence is not always loud. Sometimes it moves in silence, creeping in slowly until it takes over everything. It drained me physically, emotionally, and mentally, leaving me in survival mode, constantly trying to shield my children from the chaos around us.
Despite everything, I was fortunate to have a strong circle of friends and family. They gave me courage when I had none, offered safety before I knew how to create it myself, and reminded me that I deserved better.
The Decision That Changed Everything
Their support gave me the strength to make the biggest decision of my life.
The turning point came when I realised there was no real support for victims within the UK legal system.
I will never forget receiving a phone call while walking down Great Portland Street and was told my ex-husband would be released from prison after serving just one year of what had originally been a five-year sentence.
I remember demanding answers, only to be told that no further information could be provided because of his human rights.
In that moment, I knew I had to leave the UK. If the system couldn’t protect us, I had to protect my children myself.
Within a week, I had booked flights, enrolled the children in school, arranged temporary accommodation, and packed up our lives.
I left the UK and chose to rebuild a safe life for myself and my children in the UAE.
Rebuilding Safety in the UAE
Moving to the UAE felt both terrifying and liberating. I arrived carrying years of emotional exhaustion, a protective instinct sharpened by trauma, and a fierce determination to give my children peace.
The moment our plane took off, I felt something I hadn’t experienced in years: I could finally breathe. Alongside the uncertainty of starting over came an overwhelming sense of relief, safety, and hope.
Gradually, life began to shift. This was where rebuilding safety truly began for us.
For the first time in years, fear no longer guided every decision. My children began growing up surrounded by stability, warmth, and structure. At the same time, I started rediscovering the woman I had been before survival became my identity.
My children settled quickly. They’ve built wonderful friendships, are thriving at school, and enjoy their extracurricular activities. I still haven’t told them the full truth about my divorce or their father. That’s my burden to carry, not theirs.
The legal proceedings forced me to sell my home to cover legal fees, and that money became the foundation of our new life in Dubai.
I started working in real estate, knowing I had to make every penny count in a commission-only role. There were many days I questioned whether I’d made the right decision. I worried about rent, school fees, and building a future without family nearby.
Thankfully, my parents supported me through some incredibly difficult moments, and I will always be grateful.
Then something unexpected happened. Local mums’ WhatsApp groups became a genuine community. Complete strangers offered advice, encouragement, and friendship exactly when I needed it most. They reminded me that kindness still exists.
Slowly, I rebuilt my confidence, my independence, and my sense of self. As mothers, we often rebuild quietly through small daily choices that no one sees. Those choices matter. Over time, they create a life that feels safe again, and I realised that rebuilding safety happens one step at a time.
Rediscovering Myself
Surviving domestic violence is not a single moment. It is a long journey of rediscovering yourself, rebuilding your foundation, and learning to trust again.
Finding myself again didn’t happen overnight. It took years.
I had to reconnect with the ambitious, determined 18-year-old version of myself, the woman I was before everything changed. Slowly, piece by piece, I put the puzzle back together.
Eventually, I could look in the mirror and genuinely feel proud of the life I had created for myself and my children. The old Sara came back only stronger.
My Comeback
One moment showed me just how far I’d come.
After applying for several finance roles, I secured an interview with a private investment firm. Before my marriage, I had been building a career in finance, but that path was interrupted. Ten years later, someone gave me a second chance.
My boss looked beyond the gap in my CV and believed in my abilities. My colleagues see my experience, my work ethic, and what I contribute, not my circumstances.
Receiving my first pay cheque wasn’t just about the money. It symbolised my comeback. It reminded me that I hadn’t lost who I was. I had simply been surviving.
Healing Looked Different Than I Expected
I found comfort in reading, enjoying my morning coffee in peace, reflecting, practising gratitude, and spending quality time with my children. Every day, I’m grateful we’re raising them in such a safe country.
Therapy, journaling, and spirituality have become essential parts of my healing journey. I still attend therapy every month, and journaling has helped me process everything I’ve experienced. When I shared my journals with my therapist, she encouraged me to write a book because she believed my story could help other women realise they aren’t alone.
Healing isn’t about pretending the past didn’t happen. It’s about learning to live alongside it without allowing it to define you.
What Safety Means to Me Now
Boundaries are everything to me now. I’ve spent years creating a peaceful life for my children, and I’m fiercely protective of it.
Safety isn’t just physical security. It’s waking up in a home filled with love, peace, and laughter, leaving the house without fear, and no longer looking over my shoulder. It’s being able to breathe.
Ultimately, it’s having the freedom to simply be the best mother I can be.
From One Mother to Another
If I could speak to the version of myself who was still living in survival mode, I would tell her to keep going.
No matter how impossible things seem, there is light at the end of the tunnel.
One day you’ll realise that surviving isn’t the same as living, and you will live again.
Most importantly, I would remind her that she is enough. She always was.
Here are a few things I learned while rebuilding safety:
- Healing is not a race. Some days feel strong. Others feel triggering. Both are part of the process.
- Your support system matters. Friends and family can become a lifeline. Never underestimate the strength of community.
- Your children feel your courage. Every step you take toward safety shapes their story too.
- You are allowed to start over. Your age, circumstances, or past do not define your future.
- A peaceful life is not a luxury. It is a right, and you deserve it as much as anyone.
Rebuilding safety is possible.
You deserve a life built on peace, love, and safety.
Remember, you are enough.
Have advice for moms or a personal story to tell? We’d love to feature your voice on our blog! Share your experiences with us here! We’re always excited to welcome new perspectives and stories from moms like you!
