'I have a lot of empathy for expats': The unsung hero behind an online group helping women cope

The Expat Women in Prague Facebook group is comprised of women not just from Prague but all over the world. They visit for practical tips, serious advice, and sometimes comic relief. With 16,000 members from a cross-section of nationalities, the group is like a big, raucous family—which can sometimes get a little loud.

That’s where Elizabeth Spacilova comes in. Spacilova, who took over as the group’s admin shortly after its founding in 2014, dishes out sage advice learned from decades in Prague. She moderates with a fair but firm hand, keeping trolls and undercover men at bay while ensuring the group remains a safe space for all.

What motivates her to devote hours each week helping expat women face divorce, domestic strife, and being overcharged at the gynecologist? I recently sat down with Elizabeth at Prague’s Café Letka to find out.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

You moved around a lot as a kid. How did that shape your sense of community and belonging?

I was born in New York but only spent a year there. My dad was a salesperson, so we moved around a lot—Massachusetts, California, and Germany. I saw my mom struggling with it. She and my dad were high school sweethearts, so she’d never really moved around before, and suddenly she was uprooted constantly. In Germany, she really struggled, and I got to see that side of things.

So you’ve been an expat for most of your life.

I have a lot of built-in empathy for the expat experience. If there had been an expat women’s group in Frankfurt, I’m sure my mom would have benefited from it, especially with my dad traveling a lot.

But you eventually moved back to the States?

When I was 11. I missed things like root beer and Bubble Yum – the German version wasn’t quite the same, and that feeling wore off after about two weeks. Starting school was tough; the kids were really mean. I was used to international schools, but suddenly, I was in this small town in New England where everyone’s parents were from there, and I just wanted to go back to Europe.

How did you make that happen?

My plan was not to live in the U.S., so I studied international studies and in my senior year in 1991, I went to Romania. At the time, I wasn’t particularly interested in Central Europe, though I spoke German and thought Poland and the Czech Republic would be fine. I was more concerned about the Balkans and the Soviet Union. I spent half a year in Romania, but after a while, I thought, “I want to go somewhere else.” So, I headed back to Berlin, stopping along the way in Prague to visit a friend. On day three, I realized I wasn’t ready to leave, and something clicked.

You’re a translator, so you must have picked up Czech quickly.

Czech was extremely difficult—Romanian had been so much easier. Despite intensive study, it took me three years to grasp Czech well. I spent a month at home, plowing through books and dictionaries, looking up words. I didn’t know of any classes for foreigners, so I learned from newspapers and magazines. Another two years passed before I could hold a decent conversation.

How difficult was it to find a community in those days?

It was surprisingly easy to find a community. I had one friend in Prague, and she had a few friends, and from there, it just grew. There were places where people hung out—art ateliers and attic apartments. A few artists I knew had massive attic spaces. I remember Mama Club, though it was short-lived because the neighbors didn’t like it. Then there was Velryba [still open today] and Bunkr. Food was secondary to beer.

And now, of course, you’ve grown one of Prague's most vital online communities, a group that has become a lifeline for so many women.

We’re helping women feel less alone. For women who have been victims of domestic abuse, that’s the number one area where I wish our results were better. That can be terrifying, especially if you’re being abused, a foreigner, and don’t know the language, with a controlling partner limiting you in so many ways. You can feel completely isolated. But there is help out there, and there are people who have been through it and come out the other side—they’re okay. [The group] provides hope, and that’s really important.

What are some of the other recurring issues we expat women are up against?

Mental health, depression, and a shortage of therapists—it would be nice if there were some low-cost options in Prague. Some expats are loaded, but many are not. Some expats are particularly vulnerable—maybe I’m thinking of myself a little, but perhaps they’ve been running away from issues, and now those things have caught up with them, with no more escaping. Prague can also be a difficult place to live if you’re not drinking alcohol. The city encourages irresponsible drinking, which we see quite a lot of.

Divorce is second to domestic violence as another area where the group has had a real-world impact.

Marrying a foreigner is quite a gamble. I was married to one, and it requires a lot more than just being in love. You have to show a lot of patience and compassion for your partner and understand that sometimes communication breaks down due to language or cultural differences, not because someone is out to get you. We just express ourselves differently.

It’s only natural that many expat marriages end in divorce when you’re the foreigner living here. It’s daunting. Your family isn’t here, and if moving back home is no longer an option, that can be crushing for many people. They feel like, while still married, they can convince their partner to move, but once [you have kids] and you’re split up, that’s it—unless it’s a very amicable split, which seems rare. If people have goodwill and love their children more than they dislike their partner, it’s possible.

Given some of the sensitive and potentially volatile topics that come up, how do you keep it a safe space for all of us? That’s a huge responsibility.

A year and a half ago, we started receiving too many requests to join the group from what we suspected were completely fake bot profiles. We tried to vet the members a little—asking, “Is this plausibly a real person?” We would check their profiles and look for public photos. If it seemed like there was a real person behind the profile, we’d sometimes reach out and ask for a quick conversation or even a short video call. It was labor-intensive.

Facebook is not making it any easier. You recently created a Discord group. What was your motivation for doing so?

I feel stupid for investing so much time in a very fickle platform that exists to make money. Of course, Facebook is going to tweak and change things for profit, and its current strategy involves bots. It’s publicly stated that they want bots to generate group discussions. There was even a male-looking bot in the [sister group] Prague Women’s Exchange. It felt so wrong. We were trying to create a community that deals with real-life issues and problems. That takes time, heart, and frustration.

People don’t just come for crises; we also just want to find a reputable gynecologist.

I think [that's how it all] got started, we all just got tired of asking for gynecologist recommendations in other expat groups and getting responses like, “I can be your gynecologist” from men. It was something that was clearly needed, even if we didn’t realize it at the time.

You are by profession a translator, that's fitting for the group as well because you also help people interpret Czech law, bureaucracy, etc. Have you ever considered switching careers?

I am retraining as a crisis interventionist, working with both women and men who are victims of domestic abuse. I may also work on a free telephone helpline that provides support but not therapy, serving as a bridge to professional help for those facing long wait times—crisis interventionists can offer up to five sessions.

The work you’re doing online is entering the offline sphere. What’s up next?

Ana Romero [group member] and I recently organized a divorce workshop, which was a natural result of the group. We thought, “Where could this go?” and decided on a series of workshops for women going through big changes, starting with divorce. It was a one-hour session, covering an A to Z overview of the divorce process, but with a broad outline aimed at foreign women. Amanda Mataija at Prague Integration has been incredibly generous in letting us use her space. Ana, who is Brazilian, even donated delicious cakes. We had about 15 people and a lawyer, just enough to create a circle. The next one will be about getting your career back on track.

This year, we need to reduce our reliance on Facebook and ensure we have other frameworks and platforms in place. Maybe we’ll even establish a physical space—though Prague is expensive.

How does it feel knowing you mean so much to so many?

People know me, which is cute, but it also makes me feel strange. I’ve received a lot of gratitude from women I’ve helped when they needed it—those in the midst of a divorce who just needed a calm, guiding voice, someone who understands. That makes it all worthwhile.