How to Read “When my wife left, it feels like I lost a hundred coins”
Nyōbō satta wa zeni hyaku otoshita kokochi ga suru
Meaning of “When my wife left, it feels like I lost a hundred coins”
This proverb describes a common human psychology. Even when we feel dissatisfied or annoyed with someone while they’re around, we feel a huge sense of loss once they’re gone.
It especially applies to close people like wives. We take them for granted in daily life. Sometimes we even find them bothersome. But only after losing them do we realize their true value.
People use this saying when reflecting on how they undervalued someone or something close to them. It also expresses regret after a loss.
The phrase “feels like I lost a hundred coins” is very specific. It emphasizes not just loneliness, but a real sense of practical loss. It conveys something irreplaceable that’s now gone.
Even today, we often take people close to us for granted. We fail to notice their value while living our daily lives.
This proverb warns us not to lose sight of what’s precious in our everyday life. It reminds us not to regret things only after they’re gone.
Origin and Etymology
The exact first appearance of this proverb in literature is unclear. However, it likely emerged from the everyday life experiences of common people during the Edo period.
“Nyōbō” means wife, but in the Edo period it carried more meaning than just spouse. Women of that time handled all household chores, managed family finances, and sometimes earned income through side work. They were the cornerstone of household economics.
The word “satta” (left) refers to situations where a wife left the home. This could mean divorce, death, or other reasons for separation.
The expression “lost a hundred coins” is particularly interesting. One hundred mon coins was not a small amount for common people of that time. One hundred one-mon coins equaled several days’ worth of food expenses.
By stating this specific amount, the proverb makes the magnitude of loss feel real and tangible.
The phrase “kokochi ga suru” (feels like) is also worth noting. The person didn’t actually lose a hundred mon. It just “feels that way.”
In other words, the emotional loss of losing a wife is compared to the frustration and emptiness of dropping money.
Common people in the Edo period had the wisdom to express various emotions from daily life in concrete, understandable words. This proverb was born from such real-life experiences of ordinary people.
Usage Examples
- I complained about my boss every day, but when he transferred, “When my wife left, it feels like I lost a hundred coins”
- After moving out and living alone, I realized how grateful I should have been for my mother’s cooking and care—truly “When my wife left, it feels like I lost a hundred coins”
Universal Wisdom
This proverb reveals a fundamental limitation of human perception. We cannot accurately evaluate the value of things we have access to every day.
Things that are always there, people who constantly support us—they become like air. We take them for granted and their importance becomes invisible.
Why does this distortion in perception happen? It’s because the human brain is designed to respond to “change.”
We react sensitively to new things, rare things, and things we might lose. But we stop paying attention to things that exist stably. This was effective as a survival strategy, but it becomes a major pitfall in human relationships.
What’s even more serious is the reality that realizing this after loss is too late. You can earn money back, but you cannot recover relationships with people or lost time.
The regret of losing a hundred mon is temporary. But the regret of losing someone important can last a lifetime.
This proverb has been passed down through generations because people in every era have repeated the same mistake. We forget gratitude in abundance and cry after loss.
This is almost a destiny of being human. That’s precisely why our ancestors wanted to leave this lesson for future generations.
When AI Hears This
The human brain cannot accurately calculate the magnitude of loss. Behavioral economics experiments show that the pain of losing one million yen feels about 2.5 times stronger than the joy of gaining one million yen.
But this proverb points to an even stranger phenomenon.
When comparing the loss of a wife to the loss of a hundred mon, the former should be overwhelmingly larger. If you quantified the value of life with a wife, it would be thousands or tens of thousands of times more than a hundred mon.
However, the human emotional system feels increases more dully as losses become larger. This is called “diminishing sensitivity.” In other words, we feel the change from 10 to 20 keenly, but barely notice the change from 100,000 to 100,010.
In the brain of the man in this proverb, the loss of his wife is so enormous that he can no longer process it as a real feeling.
Meanwhile, the small loss of a hundred mon can be compared to an everyday reference point—”the usual contents of my wallet”—so it feels real as pain.
People who lose their homes in disasters often react strongly to small inconveniences at evacuation centers. It’s the same mechanism.
The human loss recognition system evolved to sensitively detect small changes directly connected to survival. Therefore, the larger the loss, the less real it actually feels.
Lessons for Today
This proverb teaches us the importance of having eyes that don’t miss the treasures in our daily lives. Around you, there must be many valuable things that have become invisible because they’re too ordinary.
As a concrete practice, try remembering three things someone did for you at the end of each day. Even small things are fine.
Coffee a coworker made for you. Dishes a family member cleaned up. A casual message from a friend. By consciously recognizing these things, you can notice the abundance you have now before regretting it after loss.
Especially with important people, it’s effective to sometimes imagine “life without this person.” By imagining the loneliness and inconvenience, the value of having them here now becomes vivid.
Then put those feelings into words and express them. Gratitude doesn’t reach others by keeping it in your heart. It deepens relationships only when expressed.
Don’t cry after losing something. Notice the value of what you have now and cherish it. That’s the wisdom this proverb gives us to enrich our lives.
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