The Reality of International Marriage (Part 2) : Lessons from Life in the UK and a Divorce Case

Raising a Child in the UK and the Reality of International Marriage: When Cultural Differences Lead to Marital Distance

Through my personal experience of raising a child in the UK, I came face-to-face with the reality of an international marriage — the cultural differences, isolation, emotional distance between partners, and an unexpected separation. In this piece, I reflect on what raising a child in a foreign country taught me about the challenges of cross-cultural marriage and the quiet process of emotional healing that followed.

Beginning Parenthood Abroad

Eight years after getting married, we were blessed with our long-awaited son. It was around this time that our relationship began to change gradually.

When my son was born, Japan Airlines was offering a Voluntary Redundancy programme for employees. I realised it would be difficult to continue flying while caring for a young child, so I applied and decided to focus on raising my son. Around the same time, my husband had started working at a Japanese bank, which gave me some reassurance that our financial situation would be stable.

However, I had no real understanding of how challenging it would be to raise my first child in a foreign country. I had no friends here, and my parents were in Japan. I never imagined how lonely and overwhelming it would be to care for a child with no one to rely on besides my husband.

The Reality of Raising a Child Abroad

• Frequent Hospital Visits and Healthcare System Challenges

When it was just the two of us, hospital visits were infrequent, and my husband could accompany me when needed. But after my son was born, hospital visits increased dramatically. My husband could no longer easily take time off work, and I often had to take him alone.

The UK healthcare system does not provide the same level of support as in Japan, and explanations were often given in technical terms that I couldn’t fully understand. I would return home confused and be scolded by my husband multiple times. Each time, I was painfully reminded of my helplessness.

• Loneliness and Changes in Our Marriage

Exhausted from caring for my son, I gradually avoided speaking with my husband in English as I had before, and I no longer had the emotional energy to consider his needs. I suspect he was dissatisfied with this change as well.

When my son turned three and started nursery, he asked me to go back to work. However, I believed that raising my son properly was my top priority and refused. This decision seemed to frustrate him.

Looking back, the friction was partly due to cultural and value differences. In the UK, dual-income households are common, and it is normal for mothers to work outside the home. In contrast, in Japan, where I grew up, it was natural for mothers to stay at home and care for the family.

I firmly believed that, as the Japanese saying goes, “the habits of childhood last a lifetime”, and that it was important for a mother to care for her young child. I simply could not follow his request. These small differences in values became a source of friction in our marriage.

The Gap Between Ideal and Reality

Gradually, I started to think:

"I left Japan and came to this country for him, doing my best, so why is he asking me to do even more?"

"He is in his own country, with friends and family, living in his own language. It’s unfair."

Looking back, I realise I may have been projecting the responsibility of coming to the UK onto him, even though it was my choice. I may also have been experiencing some postpartum depression at the time.

We had agreed to communicate openly because of our different cultures and backgrounds. But exhausted from caring for our son, I ended up venting my frustrations, and our discussions often ended in stalemates.

The Changes in Our Marriage Brought About by Raising a Child

The birth of our son marked a turning point in our marriage and in the balance of our daily lives. Alongside the joy and hope, an overwhelming sense of loneliness and anxiety began to creep in.

Raising a child in a foreign country meant that we had no family around and had to face everything on our own. Night-time feedings and nappy changes, worries about his health, hospital and nursery procedures, and the loss of information due to language and cultural differences… each of these piled up, and at times the sense of isolation felt almost unbearable.

The differences in systems and culture also presented major challenges. While there were indeed local support and advice services in the UK, I had very little capacity to search for information in English or navigate the procedures. As a first-time parent, I was constantly feeling my way in the dark, unsure of what to do and how.

Moreover, differences in parenting approaches between my husband and me added further friction to our marriage. For example, when our son was six months old, my husband said, “It’s about time he started sleeping in his own room.” I, however, felt it was far too soon for him to sleep alone at just six months and could not agree. That night, as our son wouldn’t stop crying, my husband and I argued and, in the end, we both went to bed completely exhausted.

When he started primary school, differences in opinion regarding meals also arose. My husband thought, “Since he has school lunches, a light dinner like a sandwich is enough.” However, since I had no idea how much he actually ate at school, I strongly disagreed with this view, which sometimes led to arguments over the evening menu.

These small conflicts, compounded by accumulated fatigue and stress, increasingly made even minor issues feel like major problems. In our day-to-day life, consumed by childcare, there was almost no opportunity for “us time,” and chances to communicate our feelings to each other calmly and fully became rare.

Yet, our child’s presence was also a beacon of hope. Seeing him roll over for the first time, or laugh for the first time, and witnessing each of his milestones brought a joy that temporarily made us forget the loneliness and difficulties, and was utterly priceless. At the same time, however, the fatigue of parenting, the gaps in culture and systems, and differences in our approaches to raising a child brought subtle shifts and tension into our relationship, giving us a first-hand experience of the unique challenges faced in an international marriage.

The Collapse of Our Marriage and the Sudden Separation

Around that time, he suggested that we attended couples counselling. However, I did not believe in counselling back then and thought, “We should solve our problems ourselves rather than relying on others,” so I refused his proposal. This decision was later used against me in court as evidence that I had no intention of repairing our relationship, thereby strengthening his position.

He had never once uttered the word “divorce,” which had reassured me. Then, in 2016, out of the blue, a man I had never met came to my house and handed me a Prohibited Steps Order and a Divorce Petition. It was a complete bolt from the blue for me.

Four days later, I was told to attend a hearing (mediation). With no legal representation and no understanding of what was happening, I attended with a friend. I later learned that he had taken this action out of fear that I might take our son back to Japan. In reality, such a thing had never even crossed my mind.

At that hearing, not only was my son’s passport taken, but, for some reason, mine was also confiscated. It may have been unavoidable for my son’s passport, but, looking back, I believe I had the right to leave the country freely on my own, and there was no need for my passport to be taken. In the end, both my son’s and my passports were not returned to us for the following two years.

At the time, I sought help from the Japanese Embassy, but I was told, “It is a decision of the British court,” and they could not assist me.

I had never imagined how painful it would be to have my passport taken away. I was treated as if I had done something wrong, deprived of my freedom, and spent two years as though imprisoned in the UK.

I couldn’t trust anyone and felt utterly alone. I had done nothing wrong, yet I was overwhelmed by a deep sense of despair at why I was placed in such an unjust situation. My dignity was stripped away, and I felt as if my very worth as a human being had been taken from me, as though I had been made into a powerless, worthless person. My freedom was taken away, and my heart grew so worn down that I could no longer even trust myself.

The three years until I was finally allowed to return to Japan with my son for a holiday were, truly, the most painful period of my life.

In the final part of this series, I will share what I learned through a long and difficult divorce trial, revealing the realities of international marriage and the lessons that came from this experience. I hope it will provide insight and guidance for anyone considering an international marriage or navigating an international divorce.

At Locus of Life, I aim to offer emotional support and understanding through my own experiences — helping others lighten the weight on their hearts, even just a little.

If you are struggling with the challenges of an international marriage, parenting abroad, or the loneliness and cultural differences that often accompany life overseas, please feel free to reach out. You are not alone.