No Contact When You Have Children: The Day I Finally Came Up for Air

By Maria Sarina

There is a misconception about No Contact.

People sometimes hear the words and think: "That's extreme." "But you have children together." "You still have to communicate." "Surely you can just keep things civil."

And sometimes, yes, structured communication is necessary when children are involved. But what I want to talk about is something different.

I want to talk about what happens when a parent has been living inside a toxic or abusive relationship and finally realises: I cannot heal while I remain continually accessible to the person who is hurting me.

For me, No Contact became a saving grace. It wasn't revenge. It wasn't punishment. It wasn't about winning. It was about breathing.

I finally came up for air

For a long time, I felt like I was underwater. I could never quite relax because I didn't know what was coming next. What would he say? What would he do? Who would he speak to? What version of the story would appear next?

Would there be another argument? Another accusation? Another attack? Another interaction that would leave me feeling completely destabilised?

Even when he wasn't physically present, I felt the anticipation of him. And that is something people who have never lived inside a highly toxic relationship can struggle to understand. The person doesn't necessarily have to be standing in front of you to still occupy your mind.

Then I made a decision. No Contact. And suddenly, I could breathe. It was as though I had finally been allowed to come up for air without having to look around the surface of the water wondering who was going to appear next.

No Contact gave me back control

One of the most powerful things about No Contact was that I became responsible for controlling my side of the communication boundary. I blocked him. I blocked him on everything. I stopped answering unexpected calls. I stopped engaging with messages designed to pull me back into arguments.

I stopped explaining myself repeatedly. I stopped defending myself against every accusation. I stopped entering the cycle. And something extraordinary happened. The interaction stopped controlling me.

I could decide whether I would receive communication. I could decide when I would deal with something. I could decide whether something required a response. And where communication about the children was necessary, I could approach it in a structured and appropriate way rather than allowing every interaction to become an open door into my life.

That distinction is incredibly important. No Contact does not have to mean abandoning parental responsibilities. It can mean removing unnecessary personal access while maintaining whatever child-related communication is genuinely necessary through safe, structured and legally appropriate channels.

I told my children what I was doing

I didn't secretly disappear him from my life. I spoke to my children. I explained that I had tried other ways to create peace. I explained that those approaches had not worked for me. And I told them that I had reached a point where I needed to protect myself.

I did not make them responsible for the decision. I did not ask them to carry messages. I did not ask them to hate him. I simply told them the truth in a way they could understand: "Mum has tried other ways of finding peace. They haven't worked. I need to protect myself now."

Children deserve to know when a parent is establishing a boundary that changes the family dynamic. But there is an important line: children should not become the communication channel. Don't use them as messengers. Don't ask them to report back. Don't make them responsible for managing either parent's emotions. And if parenting communication is required, create an adult system for it.

Then came the social media boundary

For me, another part of No Contact was recognising that access wasn't only happening through direct communication. There were connections. People connected to him. People who could see my professional life. People who could potentially carry information backwards and forwards.

And then I discovered that lies about me had been placed on pages connected to my professional work. That was a turning point. I realised that simply blocking one person wasn't enough for me to feel safe.

So I reviewed my digital environment. I removed connections that no longer felt appropriate. I blocked people where necessary. I reported abusive or defamatory material through the appropriate channels. I tightened my privacy settings. And I stopped giving people unnecessary access to my life. That wasn't about disappearing. It was about closing the doors I had previously left open.

No Contact is not about controlling them

This is one of the hardest lessons. You cannot control what another person says. You cannot control what they believe. You cannot control the story they tell. You cannot control whether they take responsibility. You cannot control whether other people believe them.

But you can control your access point. You can control what you respond to. You can control what you document. You can control what you share. You can control who has access to your personal life. And you can control whether you continue participating in a cycle that is destroying your peace. That is where the power of No Contact lives.

Document — don't debate

If someone is spreading lies about you, the instinct can be to immediately defend yourself everywhere. I understand that instinct. But sometimes the strongest response isn't an argument. It is documentation.

Screenshot it. Save it. Record dates. Keep copies. Document where it appeared. Report it through the appropriate platform or professional channel. If the behaviour becomes threatening, harassing, stalking or otherwise abusive, seek appropriate professional or legal advice.

Don't turn your healing into a full-time defence of yourself. You don't have to chase every lie. You need to preserve what matters and protect yourself.

Something changed inside me

The biggest change wasn't what happened outside me. It was what happened inside me. I started healing. I began to notice that horrible "off" feeling I had experienced around him wasn't dominating my life anymore. The constant anticipation began to lift.

My mind became quieter. I had space to think. Space to pray. Space to parent. Space to work. Space to sleep. Space to remember who I was before I became consumed with managing another person's behaviour.

I felt like I was being weaned off the relationship. And that is the best way I can describe it. When you have lived for a long time in an intense relational cycle, the absence of that cycle can initially feel strange. You may want to check. You may want to know what they are doing. You may wonder what they are saying. You may even feel guilty.

But slowly, something happens. You realise: I don't need to know. And that can be incredibly freeing.

The person you were afraid of no longer gets unrestricted access to you

This was perhaps my biggest realisation. Before No Contact, I felt like I was constantly reacting. After No Contact, I could make decisions. He could not simply cross the boundaries I had established whenever he wanted. He could not demand my attention whenever he wanted it. He could not automatically enter my emotional space. He could not make every interaction a confrontation.

I wasn't controlling him. I was controlling my participation. There is a profound difference.

And then I started discovering myself again

When the noise becomes quieter, you begin to hear yourself. You begin to ask: who am I? What do I actually want? What do I believe? What do I enjoy? What does peace feel like? What do my children need from me? What kind of mother do I want to be? What kind of life do I want to build?

And eventually: why did I ever believe I couldn't live without this person?

No Contact didn't make everything instantly easy. There was still grief. There were still consequences. There were still practical issues. There were still moments of anger and sadness. But there was something I hadn't had for a long time: space.

And space gave me perspective. Perspective gave me clarity. Clarity gave me choices. And choices gave me freedom.

If you have children, remember this

Your children don't need you to maintain an unhealthy relationship with their other parent simply to prove that you are a good parent. They need you to provide stability, safety and emotional honesty.

That doesn't mean speaking badly about the other parent. It doesn't mean using the children as weapons. It doesn't mean preventing a safe relationship where one can genuinely exist. It means recognising that your wellbeing matters to your children's wellbeing.

A parent who is constantly frightened, destabilised, manipulated or emotionally exhausted is trying to parent while fighting for oxygen. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for your children is create enough peace that you can finally breathe again.

No Contact set me free

For me, No Contact was not the end of my story. It was the beginning of my recovery. I stopped living in anticipation. I stopped constantly explaining. I stopped waiting for the next interaction. I stopped allowing someone else to determine when I would be pulled into conflict. And I started living.

I could finally breathe without looking at the surface of the water wondering who was going to swim toward me next.

I don't claim to understand everything that happened in that relationship. There are still questions I may never have answers to. But I eventually reached a place where I realised something very important: I didn't need to understand everything about him in order to protect myself from what was happening to me.

That was freedom. I didn't have to diagnose him. I didn't have to fix him. I didn't have to convince him. I didn't have to make him understand my pain. I didn't have to win the argument. I had to make a decision about my own access, my own boundaries and my own life.

And when I did that, something inside me began to come back to life. No Contact didn't destroy me. It gave me room to find myself again. And for me, that was the moment the healing truly began.

Go gently, Maria.