The Reality of International Marriage and Divorce Proceedings Part 3: What I Learnt in the UK
- Locus of Life
- Oct 25, 2025
- 10 min read
Updated: Apr 30
The Day My International Marriage and Divorce Proceedings Began
International marriage and divorce proceedings are not only about love or the relationship between two people. They are also deeply connected to differences in culture, language, systems, and legal frameworks.
Marrying someone from another country and building a life overseas can open many doors.
Experiencing a different culture.
Encountering new values.
Seeing the world from a wider perspective.
But at the same time, when a relationship breaks down, those same differences — language, culture, systems, and legal procedures — can suddenly become very difficult walls to face.
In Part 2, I wrote about how the distance between us gradually grew while raising our son in the UK, and how one day, without warning, I was handed divorce papers.
From that moment, which felt like a bolt from the blue, my long divorce proceedings began.
In this article, I would like to share my experience of international marriage and divorce proceedings in the UK, including child arrangements, court procedures, mirror orders, the Hague Convention, and the loneliness and lessons I experienced along the way.
I am not a legal professional.
What I share here is not legal advice, but a personal account based on my own experience.
Family law and court procedures can differ depending on the country, timing, and individual circumstances. If you need legal guidance for your own situation, please seek advice from a qualified legal professional.
This article is also not written to criticise any specific person.
I am writing because international marriage and international divorce can involve complicated realities that are not always visible from the outside. If someone reading this is going through something similar, I hope my experience may help them feel a little less alone.
The Reality of Divorce Proceedings in the UK
In 2016, my married life changed suddenly and profoundly.
It did not begin with a calm conversation about divorce.
Instead, one day, I was unexpectedly handed legal documents.
Until then, I had never heard the word "divorce" directly from my husband.
As the divorce process moved forward, my life began to take a direction I had never imagined.
For a while, he continued to stay in the family home.
But to me, there were moments when it felt less like an attempt to preserve the family, and more like a form of psychological pressure.
CCTV was installed inside the house, and when I became emotional, there were times when I was filmed on a mobile phone.
Looking back now, I wonder whether those actions were being taken with the possibility of using them later as "evidence" in court.
After one argument, I was forcefully restrained, and bruising was left on my arm.
Feeling frightened, I called the police, and he was taken away for a period of time.
After that, he left the house, saying it was for his own safety.
At the time, I found this very difficult to understand. But later, during the court proceedings, that incident would be described in a different way.
A relationship with someone I had once trusted was slowly being transformed into "claims" and "evidence" inside a courtroom.
That experience brought a kind of pain that cannot be explained simply as a cultural difference.
Child Arrangements and What I Wanted to Protect as a Mother
The first court case was about the care of our son.
Legal terminology, the court system, the procedures — everything was new to me.
And I had to understand and respond to all of it in English.
What would be best for my son?
That was the most important thing I wanted the court to understand.
I did everything I could.
I met with Cafcass, the Children and Family Court Advisory and Support Service, and I also explained the situation to the headteacher at my son's school.
I arranged psychological support for my son as well, hoping to reduce the emotional impact of the divorce as much as possible.
Everything was unfamiliar.
But as a mother, I wanted to do whatever I could to protect him.
Cultural Differences I Felt During Mediation
During mediation, before the court hearings progressed further, I strongly felt the difference in culture and values.
At one point, I shared my concerns about my son's meals when he stayed at his father's home.
I was worried about what kind of food he would be eating, whether he would have enough nutrition, and whether his daily routine would remain stable.
To me, a child's meals are not only about health and growth. They are also connected to a sense of daily comfort and emotional security.
But when I expressed this concern, I felt that my perspective was not fully understood.
Having grown up in Japan, I had always believed that meals for children should be prepared with as much nutritional balance as possible.
In the UK, however, each family has its own approach and priorities around food, and on busy days it is not unusual for meals to be simpler or more casual.
Of course, this is not about one culture being right and the other being wrong.
But I realised that even when both parents care about their child, what each person sees as important — and what each person feels worried about — can be shaped deeply by culture and upbringing.
In the end, the court recognised me as my son's main carer.
I was also granted permission, under certain conditions, to take my son to Japan for temporary visits.
The Conflict Around Mirror Orders and the Hague Convention
However, the difficulties did not end there.
During the proceedings, he requested what is known as a mirror order, so that the UK court order could also be reflected in Japan.
A mirror order is a procedure that may be requested so that the terms of a court order made in one country may be reflected by a court in another country.
I was aware of the Hague Convention, which deals with international child abduction, so I wondered whether this additional step was truly necessary.
However, my solicitor explained that if I refused everything, it might become harder to achieve the outcome I wanted.
I was told that sometimes, compromise is necessary.
My only wish was to allow my son to see his family in Japan.
So I accepted the condition.
But after that, the process did not move forward easily.
I had the UK court order translated into Japanese and prepared for the involvement of a solicitor in Japan.
I also asked him to arrange legal representation in Japan, and even offered to introduce someone if necessary.
But the process on the other side did not progress.
As time went on, I began to wonder whether this procedure had truly been necessary, or whether it had become a way to stop my son and me from returning to Japan.
My elderly parents in Japan were waiting so eagerly to see their grandson.
That was why I could not give up.
In the end, I gathered the necessary documents and return flight tickets, and applied to the court again.
After a long period of time since the proceedings had first begun, I was finally granted permission to travel to Japan with my son.
The moment we arrived in Japan, tears came to my eyes.
Relief, exhaustion, and everything I had been holding inside until then all came rushing out at once.
Financial Proceedings, Child Maintenance, and the Reality I Faced
Alongside the child arrangements, there were also financial proceedings involving division of assets and child maintenance.
There too, I faced a difficult reality.
The ways I had supported the family.
The debts of his that I had helped to shoulder.
The future stability of life for my son and me.
These things were not always considered in the way I personally felt they should be.
In court, emotions and past hardship are not necessarily understood as they are felt.
What matters are documents, evidence, and facts that can be recognised within the legal system.
Legal procedures in English.
Court hearings in a different culture.
The vulnerability of being a foreigner.
And the anxiety of wondering how my son and I would live from now on.
All of these things weighed heavily on me, and I came close to reaching my limit, both emotionally and physically.
Even so, what I tried to protect until the end was the truth.
Not exaggerating.
Not lowering myself into the same kind of conflict.
Simply presenting the facts, one by one.
That was the attitude I tried not to lose.
During the long and painful court process, there were many times when I felt as though my heart might break.
But in the end, the court made what I felt was an appropriate and fair decision.
Still, just because a judgement is given, it does not mean the wounds of the heart heal immediately.
I kept wondering how a marriage that had once been happy could have changed into something so painful.
That question remained deep inside me for a long time.
What I Learnt Through International Marriage and International Divorce
Through this experience, I learnt many things.
Many times, I asked myself, "Why did I come to the UK?"
There were days when I felt regret.
There were times when I blamed myself for the choices I had made.
But at the same time, because I had lived in the UK, I also came to appreciate again the warmth of my family in Japan and the importance of human connection.
Here in the UK too, I met new friends and people who supported me.
I realised that even in a foreign country, connection with others can support the heart.
International marriage can involve real challenges that anyone may face.
Cultural differences.
Language barriers.
Different views of family and values.
Different approaches to parenting.
And legal systems that cross national borders.
Love is, of course, important.
But there are some challenges that love alone cannot overcome.
When two people from different cultural backgrounds and value systems build a life together, mutual understanding, communication, compromise, and realistic preparation are all necessary.
The Psychological Lessons I Learnt from International Divorce
After going through long and painful court proceedings, I finally began to face myself more deeply.
Without this experience, I may never have gone on to learn about psychology in the way I do now.
Life in a foreign country.
The language barrier.
Cultural differences.
Differences in legal systems.
And the pain of watching a relationship I had trusted fall apart.
All of these things place a far greater burden on the heart than many people may imagine.
At the same time, I also came to understand how deeply a person can be supported and helped to recover by family, friends, and trustworthy third parties.
One kind word offered during loneliness.
Someone who simply listened.
Family members watching over me from far away.
These things supported me, little by little.
There is a limit to how much one person can carry alone.
Especially when living overseas, it can feel difficult to ask for help.
But talking to someone is not weakness.
It is an important step towards protecting yourself.
How This Experience Connects to Who I Am Today
I am not writing about this experience in order to blame anyone.
What I want to share is that international marriage and international divorce can involve realities that are not visible from the outside.
And if someone is suffering inside that reality right now, I want to say: you are not alone.
Writing about the past has also been a healing process for me.
In particular, I think the feelings I had when my passport was taken away from me remained unprocessed for a very long time.
By facing that pain and putting it into words, I was finally able to recognise the wound I had been carrying.
I cried many tears.
But those tears were also part of rebuilding myself.
The person I am today exists because of what I learnt through this experience.
It was an extremely painful path, but because I walked it, I now feel a desire to support others who may be going through something similar.
Overseas life, international marriage, international divorce, relationship difficulties, parenting, and emotional struggles in human relationships — these are often invisible from the outside.
That is why I believe we need safe spaces where people can talk openly and feel heard.
For Those Struggling with International Marriage or International Divorce
If you are thinking about international marriage, I hope you will cherish the dream, but also prepare realistically.
Life.
Work.
Money.
Parenting.
Differences in family values.
And the legal systems that may become important if things ever go wrong.
Learning about these things is not about creating fear.
It is about protecting yourself and the people you love.
And if you are already struggling within an international marriage or international divorce, please do not carry everything alone.
There is a reason for the anxiety and loneliness you feel.
It is not because you are weak.
Facing a major life crisis in a foreign country is, in itself, an incredibly difficult thing.
Even so, people can learn little by little, heal little by little, and begin walking towards a life that feels like their own again.
I hope this three-part series may offer even a small amount of comfort, insight, or support to those facing international marriage, overseas life, or international divorce.
🌿 Your First 30 Minutes: A Gentle Space Where You Don't Have to Carry It Alone
International divorce, court proceedings, child arrangements, and loneliness while living abroad can be very difficult to explain to those around you.
It is easy to end up carrying everything alone.
"Is it really okay to talk about something like this?"
"I'm not sure I can explain it properly."
"I haven't sorted out my feelings yet."
You may be holding thoughts like these.
Especially when you have been trying to stay strong for a long time while living overseas, it can become hard to let yourself soften and say, "I need support too."
But you do not need to have everything neatly organised before you talk.
Legal worries, concerns about your child, and your own emotions may all be mixed together — and that is okay.
This initial 30-minute free online session is a gentle, pressure-free space where you can begin to put your thoughts into words at your own pace.
It is not a place where you have to solve everything immediately.
It is simply a space where you can start by feeling safe enough to talk.
You do not have to wait until things feel "serious enough" to seek support.
If one day you think, "Maybe I could talk to someone, just a little,"
I hope you will quietly remember this space.
[🔽 Book your free initial 30-minute online session here]
※ If you would simply like to get a feel for the session, or if you are still unsure, please feel welcome to use this time gently and without pressure.
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