“MINO” is an acronym standing for “married in name only.”  

I’ll start by telling you about a well-known professional athlete who had both a wife and a mistress.  Each knew about the other, and they all went to great lengths to avoid facing the truth.  The athlete and spouse were MINOs.  Without knowing the details, I will surmise that the following things were likely true: 

  •  They had been emotionally estranged for a significant period of time.
  •   As a result, their relationship became more of a business arrangement.
  •   They avoided communicating about anything beyond the mundane day-to-day issues.
  •   There was resentment on both sides for a variety of reasons.
  •   They each were afraid to pull the plug on the marriage.
As a divorce mediator, it is impossible for me to judge MINOs because I understand why they end up married in name only.  Maybe they’re overwhelmed at the concept of divorce, so they stay together to protect their kids and/or their finances.  Maybe they don’t know how to leave the marriage even though they’re literally exhausted from trying.  Or maybe they still hope that something will change.

When a marriage drifts into MINO territory, it’s rarely because of one dramatic event. More often, it’s the slow erosion of an emotional need that went unmet for so long that disengagement became the safest place to land. For some, that unmet need is emotional safety; the feeling that their thoughts won’t be dismissed or criticized. For others, it’s connection; the reassurance that they matter to their partner. And sometimes it’s partnership; the sense of working together rather than living parallel lives under the same roof.

The MINO journey usually starts with small red flags. Individually, they don’t seem alarming. Collectively, they tell a story.

One red flag is when conversations shrink to logistics.  MINOs talk about bills, carpools, and groceries and nothing deeper. Another is when affection feels awkward or forced, as if both spouses are performing a role rather than expressing genuine warmth. Resentment is another warning sign, especially when it becomes the background noise of the relationship. And perhaps the biggest red flag is silence: when one or both spouses stop sharing opinions, hopes, frustrations, or dreams because it feels pointless or unsafe.

None of these flags mean the marriage is doomed. 

I certainly don’t see MINO couples as failures. I see them as people who have been carrying heavy emotional loads for a long time. The good news is that MINOs aren’t doomed to a life sentence. Rather, it’s an invitation to pause and ask: What need have I stopped expressing? What conversation have I been avoiding? What part of me has gone silent?

The first step isn’t a divorce mediator, a lawyer, or a major decision. The first step is simply noticing. When couples acknowledge the silence without blame, they create space for something new. Maybe that leads to repair. Maybe it leads to clarity. And maybe it leads to divorce.  In any event, it leads to honesty.