Canadian Woman Says Her US Husband Weaponised Her Immigration Status to Control Her: 'He Told the Sheriff to Call ICE'

A chilling new account published by The Cut has reignited discussion about how US immigration policy can be manipulated by abusers to silence or control their partners. The piece, written by Moa Short and told through the testimony of a survivor identified as Lydia, exposes how fear of deportation can be used as a weapon in domestic abuse — even against victims from countries like Canada, who might not typically consider themselves at risk.

Lydia, a Canadian mother of two, married her American husband, Keith, in 2019 after a whirlwind romance that began online. Once she relocated to the United States, she says her husband became controlling and violent, isolating her from friends and family while withholding the immigration documents she needed to apply for permanent status.

By keeping her undocumented, Lydia alleges, Keith ensured she remained dependent — unable to work legally, drive, or leave. 'I was American only when it was convenient for him', she told The Cut. Over the following years, she says the abuse escalated into physical assaults, sexual violence, and threats of deportation.

Lydia's case reflects a wider trend documented by advocacy groups like the Tahirih Justice Center, which assists immigrant survivors of gender-based violence. Its policy director, Casey Swegman, told The Cut that increasing cooperation between local law enforcement and immigration agencies has left victims 'terrified to report abuse', fearing police could prioritise their immigration status over their safety.

For many undocumented or visa-dependent spouses, abusers exploit this fear. By withholding paperwork, threatening to 'call ICE', or promising to withdraw sponsorship, perpetrators can create a system of total control — what experts now refer to as immigration-based coercive control. In Lydia's case, even after she filed a protective order, her husband allegedly told the sheriff she was in the US illegally and urged him to report her.

Lydia's experience is far from isolated. Data from the US Department of Justice and public health studies show that immigrant women face disproportionately high rates of intimate partner violence (IPV). Research estimates that up to 49% of immigrant women in the US experience domestic abuse, with those on temporary or dependent visas among the most vulnerable. Many report being trapped by both legal and financial insecurity — a dual dependency that prevents them from seeking help.

Studies also reveal that immigrant women are significantly less likely to report abuse or contact law enforcement compared to US-born victims. Only 22.9% of foreign-born survivors of domestic violence said they sought help from the police, compared to 36.7% of US-born women. Advocates say this gap underscores the chilling effect of immigration enforcement. When victims fear deportation more than their abusers, reporting abuse becomes an act of extreme risk rather than protection.

The United States offers several pathways for survivors, including the U visa, designed for victims who assist law enforcement in prosecuting their abusers. But the process is lengthy, complex, and often inaccessible to women without legal representation or financial stability. Lydia said she feared filing charges would leave her destitute: 'I wanted to figure out how to leave without him knowing'.

Lydia's story underscores how domestic violence can intersect with structural inequality. Immigration law, designed to regulate entry and residence, becomes a weapon when combined with patriarchal control and a lack of institutional safeguards.

As advocacy groups call for 'firewalls' between police and immigration authorities, this case offers a grim reminder that legal status can dictate safety — even for women from countries as close as Canada. 'If you are in a life-threatening situation with an abuser', Swegman told The Cut, 'and you don't think you can call the police, who else — in our society — are you able to call?'