She believes mothers who leave their children should be supported by their community. "The decision is often reflective of an extreme form of maternal instinct – an altruistic desire to ensure their children's best interests are considered first." MELISSA COLLINS 50, four children "When I separated from my husband, we were living in Warwick, in southeast Queensland. He was the lawyer in town and I knew that to move on from our marriage I had to move away. I was calculating the financial logistics of finding a job and moving to Brisbane with my sons. They were always going to come with me, until my husband asked me to reconsider. Before that conversation, the option had never occurred to me. Children always stay with their mother. My husband had a business at the time. He had staff, he had support, he had a beautiful home, and they were going to go to a good school. I wasn't going to have as much money as him and their lives were going to be much harder with me.

The decision was made very quickly. It wasn't about who loved them more, it was about who could give them a better life, and at that stage we both agreed that the better full-time parent would be my husband. Melissa Collins said her sons had a better chance with their dad. Still, the decision stung. Every second weekend I would pick them up and drive them to Brisbane. But they hated the 2½-hour commute in peak traffic on a Friday afternoon and decided they did not want to do it. It annihilated me. But so much had happened in their lives that they had no control of, this was the only thing they had power over. So I would drive to Warwick on those weekends and entertain them there until they felt ready to come to me in Brisbane. There were also surreal moments of liberation. The first time I went to buy groceries, I purchased soy mayonnaise. It's the kind of thing you never buy in a family because the kids don't eat it, but I was now on my own. Parenting was such a big part of my identity; I started to reconnect with the person I was before I had children.

When I described the separation scenario to acquaintances, some said: 'What kind of mother leaves her children?' The other comment I get is, 'I couldn't do that. I love my children too much.' I used to react to that one. Now I say, 'I love my children, too.' I've also co-founded a Facebook group called Mothers Together (Mothers Who Are Not Primary Carers). The divorce was seven years ago and it took me a good three years to adjust to my new normal, but even in this day and age society is very challenged by it. I didn't leave them on the side of the road with a can of baked beans. I left them with their father, who is an excellent parent, who loves and cares about them." NATALIE HILLAR ​ 39, two children "I became depressed at the same time as my marriage was deteriorating. My husband and I were living in Canada and as our separation progressed, I suffered a breakdown. It was a strange feeling. Anyone who knew me would identify me as a high-functioning person, but I was completely unable to keep it together.

I was suicidal and going in and out of hospitals. I tried to get better, but with my ex constantly in my life, I felt there was very little that I could do to support my recovery. It was only when my therapist said, 'You know you can leave,' that I gave myself permission to consider that process. One of my friends had a partner who was Jamaican. She told me that it was very common for Jamaican parents to go to Canada to earn money and leave the kids with the grandparents. She started telling me about different social models and it opened up a new way of thinking. I told my ex that I was going to Australia for six weeks and that if I didn't come back I would visit the kids twice a year and wanted them to come to me annually. It was a difficult time. My son would have been too young to remember, but it was disruptive for my daughter. Both kids had counselling, but my daughter struggled in her first year at school. Still, I had to get out of that environment to have any chance of recovery. Otherwise they would not have had a mother at all. It sounds scary and dramatic but it really was that bad. When I started my new job in Sydney, I had photographs of my children plastered on my cubicle. But there was a lot of criticism.

I moved to a new role and decided to pretend that I had no children until I was ready to discuss my situation. One woman kept insisting that I would make a great mother. I was living a double life. My new partner is a non-custodial parent, too. He doesn't face the same amount of disapproval, but I have learnt to handle difficult conversations better thanks to him. Now I tell people the truth. I speak about the aspects of my ex that make him a good father, and in a way I have had to start my own PR campaign. One woman at work told me that I handle the situation with grace. She found the way that I don't negatively impact the children's life to be 'commendable'. I realise now that I am a good mum, I have acted in their best interests. Whereas before I felt like I wasn't worthy of even being alive." KATE MUNN

38, three children "We had been separated for six months and my husband was not coping well. We were both dating other people, and I was commuting to Sydney from the Central Coast for half the week. One day he called me and said that he'd spoken to a solicitor and wanted custody of the kids. He has the money, the family, the infrastructure, the job, the house. And he was considered the primary care-giver at the time. I couldn't support myself on the Central Coast, and if I took my children to Sydney we would have had to live in government housing, which wasn't fair on them. I didn't want them to enter that welfare cycle. I told him to leave the kids where they were. I didn't want to drag them through the court system – it would have been time-consuming and expensive. I was also worried that a court ruling would have been finite and would have taken any flexibility away from our arrangement. I chose to remain actively passive. I wanted our kids to have a good relationship with both of us, so I was the one who was seeing the kids every second weekend.

The grief was spectacular. It was exacerbated by societal expectations. People saw me as a negligent mother. Our religious neighbours told the kids that I had abandoned them, and I intercepted an email conversation at work which stated that I had ruined my children's lives. I never felt guilty, just very sad. But I could sleep at night with the knowledge that I did the right thing by the kids. I was a stay-at-home mother for seven years, the president of the parents' committee. I made everything from scratch and never felt the need for a separate career or identity. I loved every day of those seven years, even the mundane, boring stuff. But my role as a mother was so ingrained in who I was that I struggled letting that part of me go. It was tough because there was a 23-month period where my eldest child did not speak to me and I didn't know why. However, my daughter decided to move in with me and my eldest followed soon after. To my ex's credit he offered little resistance. I have a fantastic life but I would give it up in an instant if I could be a fulltime mother to three children. I don't have regrets, I appreciate everything that I have, but I wouldn't miss it."