Domestic violence – beyond the bruises, the fear of losing your children

They dared to speak out against domestic violence. Some say they subsequently saw their credibility questioned, their bonds with their children weakened, or their situation reframed as a "parental conflict." Through the stories of three mothers, expert analysis, and the response from the DPJ, La Converse explores an institutional blind spot: those situations where domestic violence and child protection collide.

Around the table in the La Converse offices, three women share their stories, which are filled with similarities and marked by the same pain. Only one agrees to be identified. The other two request anonymity for fear of retaliation, despite years of legal proceedings.

The first to speak is Angela*. She hasn't seen her children in nine years. Nine years of absence, with no birthdays, no Christmases, no family photos. Nine years without being able to speak to them. "The worst thing you can do to a mother isn't to take her life; it's to take her children," she says, her gaze filled with sadness.

What was supposed to be just a separation turned into a tragedy. A tragedy that now affects three generations. Her own mother passed away without ever holding her grandchildren, who themselves did not attend their grandmother's funeral. These words bring a silence to the room. "I'm no longer just fighting for my children. I'm fighting for my future grandchildren," Angela declares.

From victims to the problem?

For Alice* and Manon*, speaking out remains a high-risk endeavor. Both mothers fear reigniting a legal battle that is already poisoning their daily lives, and they worry about the impact on their careers. 

The decisions rendered in their cases differ, and their family contexts are also distinct. Yet, a common sentiment runs through their testimonies: all three claim they felt the violence they reported gradually ceased to be the focus of discussions, replaced instead by other considerations and other

terms like "parental conflict," "high-conflict separation," or "toxic relationship."

"Everything I reported as violence eventually just became a 'parental conflict,'" Alice summarizes. For her, this shift profoundly changed her perception of the consequences that speaking out can have. "Do you think many mothers will report abuse if they know they risk losing their children?" Angela asks. The other women nod. Alice then says something that freezes

the atmosphere: "If I had known I was going to lose my children, I would have endured the violence rather than report it."

A major question remains: how do institutions distinguish between a conflict and a situation of coercive control?

In Manon’s story, youth protection became involved after one of her daughters experienced a severe crisis. She says she discovered entries in the child’s diary detailing physical abuse by her father and filed a new police report. According to her account, the police then contacted the DPJ, which intervened more directly in the case.

Manon claims she provided the DPJ with a psychosocial assessment, police reports, and a fifty-page document in which she detailed the psychological, verbal, and financial abuse she says she endured. Yet, she maintains that the official evaluation report concluded it was a "separation conflict," without recognizing the violence as a central element. She says she felt as though her role had been reversed: instead of being seen as a mother trying to protect her children, she was now the one who had to justify herself.

For these women, this fear is one of the blind spots in the public debate surrounding this issue. Awareness campaigns encourage victims to leave violent relationships and report abuse. But, according to them, some of the consequences of doing so remain largely unknown.

The cost of the proceedings

The three mothers maintain they acted in their children's best interests by trying to protect them. The system was set in motion: courts, psychosocial assessments, motions, appeals. On top of the psychological toll came financial ruin. Alice claims she has sunk over $200,000 into legal fees. "Legal aid exists, but as soon as you earn a decent salary, you no longer qualify. To get through this, you need massive resources."

In Angela’s case, because the family home was jointly owned, she was ineligible for legal aid, despite her financial situation as an unemployed mother. "I was billed over $1,000,000," she says regarding the costs she had to pay over the years. To survive this ordeal, she had to rely on help from her parents.

The word "exhaustion" comes up repeatedly. The feeling that the file never truly closes. And all the while, time (and childhood) slips away.

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Violence or parental conflict?

According to Professor Simon Lapierre, a specialist in domestic violence at the University of Ottawa, these are not isolated cases. "There is a confusion between domestic violence and separation conflict, but above all, the fact that post-separation domestic violence situations are perceived or interpreted as parental conflict or separation conflict," the researcher points out. According to him, this confusion stems first from a

still incomplete understanding of domestic violence. "There is still a tendency to think that domestic violence is something that happens when parents live together, when parents are still a couple. Then, from the moment the couple separates, it is no longer domestic violence," he illustrates.

There is also the image that many still have of domestic violence: that of a physically brutal man facing a woman bearing obvious signs of abuse. However, not all violence leaves visible marks. Control, domination, surveillance, and psychological abuse can be much harder to recognize and distinguish from the various aspects of a simply conflictual relationship. Yet, explains Mr. Lapierre, very often, reality does not fit this model. "When situations do not correspond to that vision of domestic violence—because it is not necessarily physical violence, or there has been very little physical violence, or the perpetrator is charming and likable, or the victim perhaps doesn't 'look like a victim'—we sometimes conclude that it is a conflict."

For Simon Lapierre, this way of looking at things often obscures a reality that is nonetheless widely documented by research: coercive control. Far from being a series of isolated incidents, this form of violence is based on a set of behaviors aimed at controlling the other parent, monitoring them, or restricting their freedom over a long period. "Domestic violence," he clarifies, "is not the result of one or a few incidents of violence. It is rather the fact that a person uses all sorts of strategies over time to control and deprive the other spouse of their freedom."

To this are sometimes added more vague considerations. "Separation conflict sometimes becomes the default category when one cannot prove that there is domestic violence," observes the researcher.

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Distinguishing domination from conflict

The distinction between conflict and violence in a domestic context is not always simple. "If we had a simple answer to that question, I think we could retire," says Catherine Turbide, a professor at the Université du Québec à Rimouski.

With her colleague Élisabeth Godbout, from Université Laval, she is currently conducting research aimed at better understanding the realities hidden behind separation conflicts and post-separation domestic violence. Both researchers note that certain manifestations observed in family files can look similar, notably persistent hostility between parents, the multiplication of legal proceedings, difficulties in communicating, and conflicts regarding children. "These characteristics do not allow us to say: 'There you go, if we have these criteria, we are in a conflict,' because those characteristics could also be observed in contexts of violence," explains Ms.^Ms. Turbide.

We must therefore look beyond visible behaviors. "When we talk about post-separation domestic violence, we are talking about a very specific type of dynamic," she continues. "There is one parent who is a victim of another parent; there is a power imbalance between the two. We are talking about control strategies, about coercive control."

Ms.^Ms. Turbide also points out that family trajectories are rarely simple. Some victims do not immediately reveal what they have experienced, and others only realize over time that certain behaviors constitute domestic violence. "Sometimes they don't even realize that that is what happened. It happens later in the process," adds

Catherine Turbide.

However, once an assessment is completed or a decision is rendered, it is difficult to turn back. "We need a certain flexibility, and once again, space, resources, and time, because if we want a victim to report what she has experienced, we must be able to maintain a connection with that person," she concludes.

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A reading with serious consequences

The consequences of misinterpreting a domestic violence situation can be significant, especially when children are involved, argues Simon Lapierre. If a domestic violence situation is interpreted as a simple parental conflict, "we will not properly assess the danger or even the risk of homicide," he states.

According to the researcher, the alarm bells raised by mothers can then be perceived as excessive or unjustified. "Instead of taking it seriously and saying, 'OK, what is making you afraid? Can we investigate further?', there is a risk of brushing that fear aside

without a second thought," he summarizes. The same phenomenon can affect children, he continues: "When a child cries because they don't want to see their father, [...] there is a risk of saying they are exposed to a conflict or that their mother has influenced their point of view."

Élisabeth Godbout agrees that children's reactions must be examined carefully. However, she also urges caution. "We must look beyond the child's resistance to understand the multiple causes driving them to act that way," she indicates, noting that there is no single explanation for the refusal of contact expressed by some children. Sometimes, these reactions may be linked to violence experienced

or witnessed, and sometimes they may stem from other family dynamics. She also warns against certain preconceived ideas that can influence how cases are interpreted. "Often, a parent who commits violence will present well, be articulate, be in control of the situation, and look like a good, responsible parent," emphasizes Élisabeth Godbout. Conversely, a person who has experienced trauma may appear confused, emotional, or less coherent. 

For Catherine Turbide, implementing interventions designed for parental conflicts in a domestic violence situation can have serious consequences. "The risk," she says, "is to revictimize these women and put young people back into situations where they are exposed to violence."

When doubt persists

While both researchers acknowledge the progress made in recent years, they believe that institutions still need time, resources, and tools to better respond to these complex situations. 

Élisabeth Godbout points out that training is currently being rolled out and that recent legislative changes offer more guidelines for practitioners. But she remains cautious. "It is far from perfect." Ms. Godbout and Turbide are also participating in a major action-research project aimed at adapting socio-judicial interventions to the different realities of post-separation domestic violence. Their goal is to reduce the risks of

revictimization and better protect the families involved.

In the meantime, they advocate for an approach based on the precautionary principle. "When in doubt, it is better to have more security than less," asserts Élisabeth Godbout. According to her, society rightly places great importance on maintaining ties between children and both parents after a separation. In some situations, however, the priority should not be the reconstruction of the parental bond, but the protection of the people involved, she believes. "We have to ask: at what cost are we maintaining contact?"

Towards a culture shift at the DPJ?

How does the DPJ view these situations today? Hélène Groleau, Director of Youth Protection Services, Diversity, and First Nations and Inuit Communities at the Ministry of Health and Social Services, begins by acknowledging the complexity of these files. "These are extremely complex family situations," she states.

Ms. Groleau points out that in 2022, the Youth Protection Act was amended to explicitly recognize exposure to domestic violence as a distinct ground for intervention. The reform was intended, in particular, to better account for situations

following separation. "We also removed a previous criterion, which required that the acts be serious or continuous. The goal," she explains, "was to provide the Director of Youth Protection with every possible tool to protect children." The director also acknowledges that a shift in practices was necessary.

In the wake of these changes, a ministerial guide was developed in collaboration with women's groups, community organizations, and researchers, including Professor Simon Lapierre. According to the ministry, several thousand caseworkers have received training on the new legislative provisions, and specialized training is now available throughout Quebec.

‍Coercive control at the heart of the changes

Like the researchers interviewed by La Converse, Hélène Groleau views coercive control as a central element in distinguishing domestic violence from parental conflict. "It is truly the distinguishing factor [...] Our ministerial guidelines have increasingly embraced the concept of coercive control," she says, referring to the power imbalance that takes hold in certain relationships and can persist after separation. While it now occupies a significant place in the clinical guides used by the DPJ, the concept has not been directly integrated into the law.

When asked about the criticisms raised by some mothers and several researchers regarding interventions focused on co-parenting (approaches aimed at helping separated parents collaborate better in the best interests of their children), she also acknowledges the risks. In the context of post-separation domestic violence, she explains, caseworkers implementing these programs may assume that a relatively equal relationship exists between the two parents, when in fact one may continue to exert control over the other. "These programs should be avoided for women who are victims of post-separation domestic violence, due to the high risk of the process being weaponized."

Finally, the director says she is "saddened" to hear that some women today fear reporting violence for risk of losing their children. "What you are describing is the last thing we want."

Ms. Groleau asserts that supporting the non-violent parent remains an essential element of child protection and advocates for better coordination between the DPJ, the courts, police, community organizations, and specialized services to limit re-victimization. "If the systems can at least allow victims to repeat

their story as few times as possible, we are truly making progress," she says, expressing a desire to better synchronize socio-judicial processes to minimize the impact on victims and families in general.

A double burden for immigrant women

For shelters, the reality remains harsh. Florence*, a worker at a shelter for women who are victims of domestic violence, witnesses this fear of reporting every day, particularly among immigrant mothers. Precarious status, language barriers, and economic isolation: the system too often labels these women as "non-protective mothers."

She explains that shelters conduct their own assessments to distinguish situations of domestic violence from parental conflicts.

Yet, she says, this perspective is not always adopted by all institutions. "When you enter the judicial system or certain youth protection processes, domestic violence can be denied. It may not be recognized at all." The consequences she observes for these women are numerous: psychological exhaustion, financial instability, loss of trust in institutions, and a feeling of no longer being heard. "Many end up abandoning certain requests or lowering their expectations because they no longer have the energy to continue."

She highlights the specific burden these women must carry: "These victims are labeled as failing to protect [their children], when in reality, they are often mothers who are completely destitute."

Like Hélène Groleau from the DPJ, Florence believes that better collaboration between institutions is one of the main challenges. "The shelter looks after the woman, the DPJ looks after the children, the criminal court handles the abuser, and the family court handles custody. But there is no place where everyone sits down together," the worker laments. According to her, this

fragmentation can cause some families to "fall through the cracks of the system," because "we are all working with the same family, but everyone is acting on their own."

Legislative changes underway

These changes in practice are part of a broader legislative debate. In Quebec, Sherbrooke MNA Christine Labrie introduced, in April 2026, Bill 598, An Act to protect children and parents who are victims of family violence. The bill proposes, among other things, to end the presumption that joint parental authority is in the child's best interest. It would also create a presumption against granting custody to a parent recognized as a perpetrator of family violence, unless that parent can demonstrate that such custody is in the child's best interest and that measures are in place to ensure the safety of the other parent and put an end to the violence. The bill also provides that certain unproven allegations of violence and certain behaviors adopted by a parent to protect themselves or their child cannot, on their own, be held against them in custody decisions.

The debate is also happening in Ottawa. Federal Bill C-223, Keeping Children Safe Act, introduced in 2025 and passed at second reading in February 2026, is currently being studied in committee. It proposes amending the Divorce Act to better account for family violence and coercive control, particularly when courts evaluate the relationship between a child and their parents. The text also addresses situations where a parent is accused of attempting to alienate the child from the other parent.

None of these bills are law yet. But their existence reflects a shared concern: ensuring that, in the context of family violence, a parent's actions to ensure their own safety or that of their child are not automatically interpreted as an obstacle to the relationship with the other parent.

Nine years after seeing her children for the last time, Angela continues to hope that one day, they will hear her side of the story. Between the accounts of mothers, the work of researchers, and the responses of institutions, one question remains: how can we ensure that protecting children never comes at the cost of silencing the violence being reported?

*Pseudonym.

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