Israel’s Homegrown Hostages

Leaving an abusive relationship takes immense courage. It demands a leap of faith, meticulous planning, and a fierce will to rebuild. But for survivors in Israel, escaping is not the end of the battle—it’s the beginning of a new nightmare.

For me, that nightmare has a name: the Stop Exit Order.

This law, unique to Israel, allows one parent to prevent the other from leaving the country with their child. While it was created to prevent international child abduction, in practice, it has become a powerful tool for abusers to maintain control long after survivors flee. It traps families in a legal limbo, prolonging trauma and preventing any hope of a fresh start.

More than a year ago, I made the impossible choice to leave in search of safety and stability. I believed that once we were free, we could start over. But with one signature, the past reached out and pulled us back.

It didn’t matter that legal proceedings were already underway to address the history of harm. It didn’t matter that staying in Israel cut us off from the family abroad who could provide love, stability, and support. The system didn’t protect us—it protected the one who wanted to keep us from leaving.

On paper, the Stop Exit Order seems reasonable. It’s designed to prevent one parent from taking their child abroad without the other’s consent. But in reality, it has become a weapon.

This isn’t just my story. According to Israel’s Central Bureau of Statistics, in 2022, there were over 3,500 active Stop Exit Orders in the country. Many of these were used in the context of domestic disputes, turning what should be a safeguard into a tool of power and punishment. Each of these orders represents a family in limbo—a survivor and child bound by legal restraints that ignore the nuances of abuse.

Imagine escaping years of fear only to be told you cannot leave the country. Imagine a system that prioritizes bureaucracy over safety. For survivors, the Stop Exit Order feels like a life sentence.

What about the children caught in the middle of these battles? My daughter has already endured more than any child should. She has witnessed more than she should have, felt more fear than any child should know.

When we finally left, I thought I could give her the chance to grow up surrounded by love and stability. But the Stop Exit Order denies her that opportunity. She has been cut off from family abroad—people who could offer her safety, warmth, and a sense of normalcy.

Research shows that children exposed to domestic violence are at higher risk for PTSD, depression, and anxiety. They often struggle academically, face difficulties forming healthy relationships, and are more likely to perpetuate cycles of trauma as adults. By enabling abusers to use the Stop Exit Order as a weapon, the system is not only failing survivors—it’s failing their children.

This law is not about protecting children; it’s about control. It allows one parent to dictate the life of the other long after separation.

When the Stop Exit Order was filed against me, it wasn’t about concern for a child’s well-being. It wasn’t about ensuring a future filled with love and security. It was about control. It was about making sure I knew that no matter how far I tried to run, I could still be kept in place.

This story isn’t unique. Lawyers and advocates across Israel have documented countless cases where the Stop Exit Order has been misused, where it has been weaponized to punish rather than protect. It’s a glaring loophole in the legal system that must be closed.

The Stop Exit Order urgently needs reform. Its original purpose—to prevent abduction—has been overshadowed by its misuse. Judges must be empowered to lift Stop Exit Orders when they are being exploited. Survivors must have clear pathways to seek exemptions, especially when their safety or well-being is at stake.

Moreover, courts need to prioritize the impact on children. While maintaining relationships with both parents is important, it should never come at the cost of a child’s safety or mental health. The child’s best interests—not legal technicalities—must come first.

Every day that this law remains unchanged, more families are left in limbo. More survivors are forced to choose between their safety and their freedom. More children are denied the chance to heal.

For me, the Stop Exit Order has meant years of heartbreak, fear, and frustration. It has kept my daughter and me tied to a past we’re desperate to leave behind. It has robbed us of the opportunities we need to heal and grow.

But this isn’t just about me. It’s about every survivor who has been let down by a system that claims to protect but instead perpetuates harm.

For my daughter, I dream of a day when she can play without fear, sleep without nightmares, and grow up free from the shadows of the past. For every survivor, I dream of a system that values their safety over bureaucracy, their freedom over control.

The Stop Exit Order is a silent cage, invisible but unbreakable. A punishment without a crime. A sentence without an end.

We must demand change. Because no child should grow up feeling trapped. And no survivor should have to fight for a freedom that should never have been taken away.