1. Introduction: “We Don’t Talk. We Co-Own.”
New Zealand loves to see itself as the land of fresh starts and happy families — a country where you can buy a slice of paradise, raise the kids, and live the dream. But behind many neatly trimmed hedges and Instagram-worthy family photos lies a truth few are willing to admit: thousands of Kiwi couples are no longer bound by love, but by debt.
It’s a quiet crisis, one whispered about at barbecues or brushed off with jokes about the “ball and chain.” Yet for many midlife couples, it’s not banter — it’s a reality defined by silence, simmering resentment, and an ever-present mortgage statement sitting on the kitchen counter.
"We don’t talk. We co-own."
That’s how one Auckland woman in her late 40s described her marriage of twenty-two years. She and her husband live in the same house, share the same bills, and even attend the same family gatherings — but emotionally, their lives run on separate tracks. Divorce, she explains, isn’t an option: “We’d both go broke if we sold. The house keeps us together, not the love.”
A National Pattern
They’re not alone. Relationship counsellors across Aotearoa are reporting an uptick in couples who admit they would separate if not for financial entrapment. Sky-high property prices, ballooning mortgage repayments, and the rising cost of living have left many feeling that staying miserable together is still “cheaper” than trying to survive apart.
Recent data from Stats NZ shows that while divorce rates have plateaued, the number of couples seeking relationship counselling has steadily risen. Behind the statistics are thousands of Kiwi mums and dads, partners and spouses, who stay in the same home out of necessity rather than affection. It’s not the dramatic break-ups splashed across tabloid headlines — it’s the slow suffocation of marriages that remain intact on paper but hollow in practice.
The Hidden Toll
The emotional cost of this arrangement is immense. Living in what psychologists call a “silent marriage” has been linked to higher stress levels, depression, and even physical health issues like heart disease. Children, too, often pick up on the tension — even if arguments are rare, the lack of warmth and connection can shape their view of relationships for years to come.
For many Kiwi couples, marriage has shifted from a romantic union to something closer to a business partnership — a co-investment in bricks and mortar, a joint effort to keep the bank happy. Love may have quietly packed its bags years ago, but the mortgage still needs to be paid.
And so they stay. Together, but apart.
2. Love vs Lifestyle: The Economic Shackles of Marriage
When Kiwis talk about “settling down,” the dream often centres on a home — a backyard for the kids, a BBQ for summer, and maybe a bach to escape to on weekends. But in today’s New Zealand, that dream has become a double-edged sword.
For many couples, the very thing that once symbolised security and stability — the family home — has become the anchor that traps them in marriages that no longer bring joy.
The Price of Staying Put
House prices in Aotearoa remain some of the most expensive in the world compared to income. Even with recent market fluctuations, the average house price sits well above $800,000, with Auckland and Wellington homes still out of reach for many single-income households. For couples in midlife, that means separating isn’t just about leaving a relationship — it’s about walking away from the single largest financial asset they’ve ever owned.
One 52-year-old father of three explained it bluntly:
"If I leave, I can’t afford to buy another place on my own. Renting’s just as bad, and the kids would lose their stability. So we stay. We share a house, but not a life."
This story isn’t unusual. Property ownership has become a form of financial handcuff, where the cost of splitting outweighs the emotional cost of staying. For many, the maths simply doesn’t add up.
The Price of Breaking Free
Divorce in New Zealand is not just emotionally draining; it’s financially brutal. Legal fees, property settlements, splitting KiwiSaver funds, and ongoing child support can wipe out years of savings. Add skyrocketing rental costs and the near impossibility of buying a new home on a single income, and the idea of starting over feels less like freedom and more like financial suicide.
The result? Couples choosing “lifestyle survival” over love. They trade intimacy for security, companionship for co-ownership. It’s not so much a partnership as it is a reluctant truce in the face of economic pressure.
The Kiwi Reality Check
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com and commentator on social trends, puts it this way:
"In New Zealand today, too many couples are locked into what I call ‘mortgage marriages.’ They’re not staying together because of love, but because of lifestyle and financial survival. It’s the brutal reality of a housing market that’s out of sync with real human connection."
His words reflect a growing truth: in Aotearoa, where housing affordability and cost-of-living pressures dominate headlines, marriage is increasingly being shaped not by romance, but by real estate.
3. The Cost of Breaking Free
For couples whose marriages have flatlined, the idea of separation can feel like the only path to emotional survival. Yet in Aotearoa, breaking free comes at a cost so steep that many Kiwis quietly decide to stay shackled instead.
The Legal and Financial Fallout
Divorce in New Zealand (legally referred to as dissolution of marriage) might look simple on paper, but in practice it can be messy, expensive, and devastating. Legal fees alone can range from $5,000 to $30,000, depending on how contested the settlement becomes. Then there’s the division of property, KiwiSaver funds, debts, and the house itself.
For most midlife couples, the family home is their biggest shared asset — and selling it to split the proceeds often means both parties are forced out of home ownership altogether. The dream of having “a place to call your own” dissolves into the harsh reality of two adults scrambling to afford rent, sometimes in the very neighbourhoods they once proudly bought into.
A Christchurch counsellor describes it this way:
"I see couples who are emotionally done, but financially stuck. They’ll sit on opposite ends of the couch and tell me: ‘We can’t afford to split.’ It’s heartbreaking, but it’s become normal."
Impact on Children
For families with tamariki, the stakes climb even higher. While research shows children are often better off when they’re not living in the shadow of a toxic relationship, the instability of moving houses, shifting schools, and financial strain can create deep scars.
Many parents, torn between their own unhappiness and their children’s need for stability, choose to endure quiet misery rather than uproot their kids. Ironically, in trying to protect their children from chaos, they may inadvertently raise them in homes where love is absent but tension is ever-present.
The Silent Epidemic
It’s this no-win situation that fuels the epidemic of “silent marriages” in Aotearoa — couples who stay legally married but emotionally estranged, treating their relationship as a business partnership rather than a bond of intimacy.
Financial experts warn that this compromise comes with long-term consequences. Living in a loveless marriage can increase mental health struggles, stunt career mobility (because couples stay tied to certain jobs to pay the mortgage), and erode personal wellbeing. Yet when faced with the cost of breaking free, many Kiwis see no alternative.
Daniel Chyi’s Perspective
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, captures the dilemma perfectly:
"New Zealand couples are being forced into a trade-off between love and lifestyle. For too many, the cost of freedom feels like a luxury they can’t afford. That’s not just an economic issue — it’s a human crisis."
4. Emotional Deadlock: Living Together, Apart
From the outside looking in, many Kiwi couples appear to be doing just fine. They’re still turning up to kids’ sports games together, mowing the lawns on weekends, and posting the occasional holiday snap on Facebook. But behind the front door, their homes tell a very different story.
Separate Lives Under the Same Roof
Increasingly, midlife couples who can’t afford to split are opting for quiet cohabitation without connection. That means separate bedrooms, minimal conversation, and interactions limited to logistics: who’s paying which bill, what time the kids need to be picked up, whose turn it is to do the groceries.
One Auckland mother of two described it bluntly:
"We don’t fight. We don’t laugh. We don’t talk. We just co-own."
This emotional deadlock creates a household where silence replaces affection and resentment simmers just below the surface. It’s not open conflict, but nor is it intimacy. It’s survival mode.
The Social Façade
In classic Kiwi fashion, many couples keep up appearances. They’ll still head to the family BBQ or Christmas gathering together, often because admitting the truth would spark uncomfortable questions — or worse, pity. In small towns especially, the stigma of separation lingers, and couples fear being judged for “giving up” on their marriage.
This creates a paradox: couples who are emotionally checked out still show up as if everything is sweet as. Neighbours, whānau, even close mates often have no idea what’s really going on.
Mental Health Toll
While divorce comes with financial pain, staying in a loveless marriage carries its own invisible costs. Studies have shown that people in unhappy relationships experience higher rates of depression, anxiety, and chronic stress. For many Kiwi couples, this plays out quietly in the form of sleepless nights, low energy, and an ongoing sense of disconnection from life itself.
Counsellors report seeing a rise in midlife burnout linked directly to this phenomenon — not from work, but from emotional stagnation at home. The cost isn’t measured in dollars, but in wellbeing.
Daniel Chyi’s Reflection
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, sums it up like this:
"We often think of divorce as the failure, but in New Zealand today, there’s another kind of failure: staying in a marriage that’s already over. It creates households where people live side by side, but not together — and that quiet loneliness is devastating."
5. Why We Don’t Leave – Fear, Finances, and Family Pressure
If love is gone, why don’t more Kiwi couples walk away? The answer isn’t simple — it’s a mix of money worries, cultural pressure, and the deeply human fear of the unknown.
Fear of Starting Over
For midlife couples, the thought of starting again can feel overwhelming. Dating in your 40s or 50s is no walk in the park, and for many Kiwis, the idea of putting yourself back “on the market” feels more terrifying than staying stuck.
One Wellington dad described it to me like this:
"It’s not just the money. It’s the idea of being alone, of not having anyone to come home to, even if that person doesn’t really see you anymore."
This fear of loneliness keeps many couples locked into arrangements that no longer bring joy.
The Financial Straitjacket
Money, however, remains the biggest anchor. In Aotearoa’s current housing crisis, the thought of selling up and trying to buy again solo is near impossible for most. Renting isn’t much easier, with weekly rents in Auckland and Wellington easily topping $650–$700 for modest family homes.
Splitting a mortgage may mean both partners end up in smaller, less secure housing — or out of home ownership entirely. For couples who’ve worked their whole lives to pay down a house, the idea of losing that security is unbearable.
Many quietly conclude: “Better to stay miserable together than broke apart.”
Whānau Pressure and Stigma
There’s also the cultural weight of expectations. In small towns and close-knit communities, separation still carries stigma. Families often pressure couples to “stick it out” for the sake of the kids, or to avoid gossip down at the local.
For older generations especially, marriage is seen as a lifelong commitment — even if that means putting up with unhappiness. Kiwi stoicism, that classic “just get on with it” attitude, can mask real suffering behind closed doors.
Children at the Centre
Parents also stay because they believe it’s best for their tamariki. While research shows children thrive in safe, loving environments (not tense, loveless ones), many parents fear that separation will cause trauma, instability, and emotional scars.
So they stay — not out of love for each other, but out of love for their kids. Tragically, this can create households where children grow up thinking that silence, disconnection, and emotional distance are normal in relationships.
Daniel Chyi’s Insight
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, captures this painful reality:
"We talk about choice, but for many Kiwi couples, there’s no real choice at all. Fear, money, and family pressure create invisible chains that keep people together long after love has gone."
6. The Role of Money – Mortgages, Inflation, and the Kiwi Dream
When you strip it all back, money isn’t just part of the problem — it is the problem for many midlife Kiwi couples stuck in unhappy marriages. The economic reality of modern Aotearoa has turned the family home into both a dream and a prison.
The Mortgage Trap
Home ownership has always been the cornerstone of the Kiwi dream. But with average house prices still hovering around $900,000 nationwide (and over $1.3 million in Auckland), the price of that dream has skyrocketed.
Couples who bought in during the 2000s or early 2010s often now sit on massive mortgages, sometimes stretching 25–30 years. For many, this means both partners need to keep working full-time, and separating would mean splitting that debt in half — a financial hit most simply can’t recover from.
One Christchurch man explained it plainly:
"I don’t love her anymore, but walking away means selling the house. And if I sell, I’ll never get back in. That’s the ball and chain."
Inflation and Rising Costs
It’s not just mortgages — it’s the cost of living. Food, power, fuel, and insurance have all climbed steeply over the past few years. Statistics NZ reported food prices up more than 20% since 2020, with basics like bread, milk, and cheese almost doubling in some supermarkets.
Even if a couple did split, the maths doesn’t work. Two rents, two power bills, two sets of groceries — life instantly gets more expensive. In many cases, staying together under one roof becomes the only financially viable option.
The Kiwi Dream Turned Nightmare
What makes it worse is that the house — once a symbol of stability and success — becomes a cage. Couples cling to their mortgages because it’s the last thread tying them to the Kiwi dream: the idea that owning a home means you’ve “made it.”
But when that dream comes at the cost of emotional wellbeing, the question becomes: is it really success, or is it survival dressed up as stability?
Silent Resentment
Money stress doesn’t just hold couples together; it drives them further apart. Fights over spending, debt, or financial planning are some of the most common triggers for conflict. For couples already emotionally checked out, these arguments become routine — another reminder that love has been replaced by financial partnership.
Daniel Chyi’s Take
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, puts it in sharp terms:
"In New Zealand today, mortgages are writing the love stories. Too often, people aren’t staying married because they want to — they’re staying married because they can’t afford not to."
7. The Impact on Children – Growing Up in a Loveless Home
When couples choose to “stick it out for the kids,” the intention is usually noble. Parents don’t want to disrupt their tamariki’s lives, break up their routines, or cause emotional harm. But the reality is often far more complicated. Children notice everything — and silence in a home can echo louder than shouting.
Kids See More Than We Think
Research consistently shows that children are incredibly perceptive. Even if there’s no open conflict, kids can pick up on tension, distance, and emotional coldness between parents.
A Dunedin teen described it like this in a school wellbeing survey:
"Mum and Dad don’t fight. They don’t talk either. It feels like living in a fridge."
That quiet chill becomes the backdrop of their childhood, shaping how they understand relationships and what “normal” looks like.
The Emotional Toll
Children in loveless households often experience:
Anxiety – worrying that the family will fall apart.
Confusion – struggling to make sense of why their parents don’t show affection.
Low self-worth – believing they’re the reason for their parents’ unhappiness.
Over time, this can ripple into adulthood, with many carrying unresolved trust issues or repeating the same patterns in their own relationships.
The Role-Model Effect
One of the biggest concerns is what children learn by example. If they grow up seeing marriage as an arrangement built on obligation rather than connection, they may internalise that as the standard.
Psychologists call this the “role-model effect” — kids learn about love not from what we tell them, but from what they see us live. In households where parents are more like flatmates than partners, the message can be dangerously clear: relationships don’t need love, just endurance.
Resilience vs Damage
Of course, not every child from a struggling household ends up scarred. Some build resilience, empathy, and determination to do better in their own lives. But resilience shouldn’t be built on pain.
The key difference often lies in how parents handle the situation. Couples who can maintain respect, kindness, and open communication — even without romantic love — can still provide a stable, safe environment. But when disconnection slips into bitterness, avoidance, or resentment, children carry those scars.
Daniel Chyi’s Reflection
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, reflects on this silent impact:
"We tell ourselves we’re staying together for the kids. But sometimes what we’re really teaching them is that love doesn’t matter — only mortgages and appearances do."
8. Coping Mechanisms – Affairs, Escapism, and Silent Suffering
When love fades but financial or social realities keep couples tied together, many Kiwis turn to coping strategies — some healthy, most not. Behind closed doors, the emotional drought of a deadlocked marriage can push people toward quiet desperation, hidden escapes, or choices that deepen the divide.
Affairs: Looking for What’s Missing
For some, affairs become a way to feel alive again. It’s not always about lust — often it’s about seeking intimacy, validation, or simply being seen.
In midlife especially, when people hit the classic “is this all there is?” stage, the temptation to find connection outside the home can be overwhelming.
One Wellington woman explained:
"I don’t even feel guilty anymore. My husband and I haven’t touched each other in years. The man I see reminds me I’m still wanted."
Affairs, however, rarely fix anything. They may provide temporary relief, but they often leave emotional wreckage and deepen the dishonesty at home.
Escapism: Disappearing Without Leaving
Not everyone cheats. Many instead retreat into escapism:
Workaholism – throwing themselves into the office to avoid going home.
Alcohol or gambling – numbing the loneliness with a drink or a punt at the TAB.
Digital distractions – endless scrolling, gaming, or binge-watching to fill the silence.
These escapes don’t resolve the underlying issues; they just delay the confrontation, often adding new layers of stress, like financial strain or addiction.
Silent Suffering: The Kiwi Way
Perhaps the most common coping mechanism in Aotearoa is doing nothing at all. Our culture still carries a strong streak of “she’ll be right,” which often translates into bottling things up.
This silent suffering looks like:
Sleeping in separate rooms but never talking about it.
Avoiding social events to dodge questions.
Carrying on with the mortgage, the school runs, and the family dinners as if everything is normal.
It’s a survival strategy — but one that eats away at mental health, self-esteem, and long-term wellbeing.
The Cost of Not Confronting
What all these coping mechanisms share is avoidance. Instead of addressing the root cause — emotional disconnect, financial stress, or unspoken resentments — couples drift further apart. The relationship becomes less about living together and more about existing side by side, like two ships moored at the same dock but sailing nowhere.
Daniel Chyi’s Insight
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, captures the essence of this coping culture:
"Kiwis are world champions at putting on a brave face. But in marriage, silence and escapism aren’t strength — they’re slow-motion collapse."
9. The Stigma of Separation – Why Leaving Still Feels Like Failure in NZ
For all the talk of modern values and progress, Aotearoa still carries a heavy cultural weight when it comes to separation and divorce. Despite rising divorce rates over the decades, many Kiwis still see ending a marriage as a personal failure — something shameful rather than a step toward healing.
Cultural Hangovers: Marriage as a Badge of Success
In many Kiwi communities, marriage is still framed as a benchmark of stability and maturity. A long marriage isn’t just about love; it’s treated as proof that you’ve “made it.”
A steady partner.
A house with a mortgage.
Kids who turn out “all right.”
So when a couple decides to split, it’s often viewed not as an act of courage but as evidence that they “couldn’t hack it.”
Judgment from Whānau and Mates
The fear of gossip or disappointment from whānau can weigh heavily on couples considering separation. For many, there’s a deep reluctance to be “that couple” at family gatherings or church.
Even friends can add to the stigma with throwaway comments like:
"Oh, they seemed fine. What happened?"
or
"Couldn’t you just stick it out for the kids?"
These judgments may not be malicious, but they reinforce the idea that separation is a last resort — a scarlet letter rather than a valid choice.
Religious and Generational Pressures
Older generations, in particular, often hold a more rigid view of marriage. In communities where church values remain strong, divorce can still carry a sense of moral failure. Even those who aren’t religious sometimes inherit that worldview from their parents and grandparents.
This generational divide means younger couples may feel trapped between wanting freedom and fearing family shame.
Why Staying Feels “Safer”
Because of this stigma, many couples convince themselves it’s better to endure unhappiness than face the fallout of leaving. Financial fears tie into this too, but the social weight is just as powerful. Staying together lets them avoid:
Awkward questions at school gates or workplaces.
Being labelled as “broken” or “unstable.”
The silent pity that often follows separated parents.
The Unspoken Irony
Here’s the irony: while separation is still judged, so too is obvious marital unhappiness. People whisper about the couple who clearly can’t stand each other, just as they whisper about the ones who split.
This leaves couples in a lose-lose situation — damned if they leave, miserable if they stay.
Daniel Chyi’s Perspective
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, reflects on this paradox:
"In New Zealand, separation is still treated like failure, but staying miserable is treated like sacrifice. Both narratives are broken. True success is building a life where you and your whānau can thrive — not just survive."
10. Towards Honest Love – Redefining Success for Kiwi Couples
After decades of social change, rising living costs, and shifting cultural norms, it’s clear that the traditional Kiwi marriage model — stay together no matter what — is no longer serving many couples. But acknowledging the problem is only the first step. True progress comes from imagining what love, partnership, and commitment could look like in modern Aotearoa.
Rethinking Marriage and Success
Success in relationships shouldn’t be measured by longevity alone, nor by the size of a mortgage or the number of kids. It should be measured by:
Emotional wellbeing of both partners
Healthy communication
Shared respect and mutual support
Stability and safety for children
By reframing marriage this way, couples can stop viewing separation as failure and start seeing it as one of many valid paths toward a fulfilling life.
Financial Literacy and Flexibility
Many couples feel trapped because of financial pressures. Greater education around budgeting, shared investments, and flexible living arrangements can make separation or renegotiation of roles a real option without devastating economic fallout.
Alternative housing arrangements, co-ownership with clear legal structures, or downsizing can give couples more freedom to choose happiness over mere survival.
Counselling and Communication
Professional support is crucial. Relationship counselling, whether early or mid-marriage, can help couples:
Navigate resentment
Rebuild connection if desired
Decide mutually if separation is the healthiest option
Even for couples who choose to stay together, counselling fosters honest communication, replacing silent suffering with shared understanding.
Community and Cultural Support
Changing societal attitudes is equally important. Removing the stigma around separation, supporting diverse relationship models, and creating spaces for honest conversations will allow Kiwis to prioritise emotional health over appearances.
Communities can celebrate commitment and personal growth, showing that leaving a marriage does not erase the value of past love — it can simply be the next chapter.
Daniel Chyi’s Vision
Daniel Chyi, Co-founder of Vidude.com, sums it up:
"Kiwis have been taught to endure, to sacrifice, to stay silent. But real love — honest love — comes from choice. It’s about asking yourself: are we together because we want to be, or because we have to be? And if it’s the latter, how can we change that story for ourselves and our kids?"
A Call for Honest Partnerships
The quiet crisis of Kiwi couples isn’t just about mortgages or money — it’s about the courage to be honest, the bravery to redefine success, and the will to prioritise emotional wellbeing.
Aotearoa has an opportunity to model a new approach to midlife relationships: one where partnership, love, and respect are chosen, nurtured, and celebrated — not forced by circumstance or fear. By doing so, Kiwi couples can finally live side by side and together, creating homes that are warm, supportive, and authentically connected.
