The topic of what constitutes a lasting and prosperous marriage has been a subject of ongoing discussion. While effective communication is often considered a crucial factor, a Japanese couple defied expectations by maintaining a 20-year marriage without saying a word. The surprising rationale behind their silent union adds an intriguing twist to their story.
A Japanese husband took the “silent treatment” to a whole new level.
The silent treatment entails the refusal to participate in verbal communication when someone is trying to engage and elicit a response. It is not unusual to observe a pause in communication following an argument.
However, can you imagine the difficulty of being married to a spouse who persistently avoids communication? This was the situation for a couple from the Nara region in Japan. Otou Katayama and his wife Yumi faced a prolonged two-decade rough patch in their relationship.
For decades, the man refrained from speaking to his wife, even though they lived under the same roof.
Otou Katayama continued to reside with his children and wife. Despite Yumi Katayama’s attempts to initiate conversations with her husband, she consistently faced a dearth of genuine responses. Instead, Otou communicated approval or disapproval through non-verbal cues, relying on grunts and nods.
Surprisingly, the idea of seeking a divorce or separation never crossed the wife’s mind. The couple even extended their family by welcoming a third child, all while Otou Katayama maintained his silent demeanor towards his wife.
The reason behind Katayama’s silence is even more surprising.
Years later, the father and husband elucidated the reasons behind imposing a 20-year silent treatment on his wife. Katayama believed he was lacking the attention he desired from his wife, feeling that her care was predominantly focused on their children.
Initially, he merely sulked about the situation, but over time, this evolved into a sense of jealousy toward his kids and his wife, who exhibited deep involvement in the upbringing of their offspring—perhaps a level of involvement that exceeded Katayama’s preferences.
Thanks to a TV show, husband and wife finally exchanged words after 20 years.
After two decades of silence, the adult children of the Japanese couple decided to take matters into their own hands. They approached a TV show, seeking assistance in resolving the longstanding conflict between their parents. TV Hokkaido stepped in to help the children witness Katayama speaking to his wife for the first time.
The children confessed that they couldn’t recall ever hearing a conversation between their parents. TV Hokkaido orchestrated a meeting between Otou and Yumi at a park, the same location as their first date many years ago. Unbeknownst to the spouses, their children, along with the audience, observed the emotional moment unfolding before their eyes.
After some initial hesitation, Otou Katayama finally mustered the courage to speak a few words to his wife, Yumi. In that moment, the husband felt a heightened sense of remorse and understanding regarding the situation. Katayama conveyed to his wife that he was aware of the pain and hardship his prolonged silence had caused her. Despite his regret, he also expressed gratitude to Yumi for standing by him throughout two decades of his silent period, which ultimately came to an end on that day.
Undoubtedly, the relationship between Otou and Yumi is distinctive, much like that of the couple from our previous article who, despite the woman’s disability and the criticism they faced, embarked on the journey of starting a family and became parents.
I Discovered My Husband Mocks Me in Front of His Friends & I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget
I’m a full-time mom. About a year ago, I left my job to take care of our three-year-old daughter, who is autistic and requires a lot of support. Lately, I’ve noticed that my usually feminist husband has been criticizing me in a group chat.
Transitioning into the role of a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) wasn’t something I had envisioned for myself. I used to thrive in the fast-paced world of marketing, surrounded by campaigns and fueled by brainstorming sessions over coffee. But all that changed a little over a year ago when my husband, Jake, and I made a significant decision. Our daughter, Lily, who is three and autistic, needed more attention than what her daycare could provide. Her needs are complex, requiring constant care and support, and it became clear that one of us had to be with her full-time.
I won’t sugarcoat it — leaving my career behind was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. I miss the freedom of earning my own income and the satisfaction of a job well done. But here I am now, spending my days planning meals, cooking, and baking. I’ve found joy in these tasks, and experimenting in the kitchen has become my new creative outlet.
Our backyard has turned into a small garden oasis under my care, and I take care of most of the household chores. Jake does his fair share too; he’s actively involved in chores and parenting whenever he’s at home. We’ve always considered ourselves equals, rejecting traditional gender roles, or so I thought until last week.
It was a regular Thursday, and I was tidying up Jake’s home office while he was at work. It’s filled with tech gadgets and piles of paperwork, typical for someone in software development. His computer screen caught my eye — it was still on, casting a soft glow in the dim room. He usually left it on by accident, but what I saw next wasn’t accidental at all.
His Twitter feed was open, and I froze when I saw the hashtag #tradwife attached to a tweet. Confusion washed over me as I read the post. It glorified the joys of having a traditional wife who embraces her domestic duties. Attached was a photo of me, taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, looking every bit like a 1950s housewife. My stomach churned as I scrolled through more posts. There I was again, tending to the garden and reading to Lily, our faces thankfully obscured.
This was Jake’s account, and he had been crafting a whole narrative about our life that was far from reality. He portrayed me as a woman who relished her role as a homemaker, willingly sacrificing her career for aprons and storybooks. The truth of our situation — that this arrangement was a necessity for our daughter’s well-being — was nowhere to be seen.
I felt betrayed. Here was the man I’d loved and trusted for over a decade, sharing our life with strangers under a false pretense that felt foreign to me. It wasn’t just the lies about our relationship dynamics that hurt — it was also the realization that he was using these glimpses of our life to bolster some online persona.
I shut the computer down, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. All day, I grappled with my emotions, trying to comprehend why Jake would do this. Was he dissatisfied with our situation? Did he resent my decision to stay home? Or was it something deeper, a shift in how he perceived me now that I wasn’t contributing financially?
The rest of the day passed in a blur. His posts kept replaying in my mind, and eventually, I couldn’t ignore them any longer. I decided to call him and address everything head-on.
“Jake, we need to talk,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He answered, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, the weight of my discovery weighing heavily on me. “I saw your Twitter today…”
His expression fell, and he let out a long sigh, indicating he knew exactly what this conversation was about to entail. He started to respond, but I interrupted him.
“Calm down,” he said, dismissing it as “just harmless posting.” That was the final straw. I told him I wanted a divorce, called him out for his deceit, and ended the call.
Jake rushed home immediately. We argued, but with Lily’s strict schedule, I couldn’t let the conflict drag on. He pleaded with me to have a proper conversation after putting Lily to bed. Reluctantly, I agreed. That night, he showed me his phone, revealing that he had deleted the Twitter account. But the damage was already done.
A week passed, and my anger hadn’t subsided. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. It was a breach of trust. Jake attempted to explain, claiming it started as a joke, but he got carried away with the attention it garnered. But excuses weren’t enough.
Motivated by a mix of hurt and the need for justice, I decided to expose him. I took screenshots of his tweets and shared them on my Facebook page. I wanted our friends and family to know the truth. My post was straightforward: “Your husband belittles you in front of his friends behind your back. Sound familiar?”
The response was immediate. Our relatives were shocked, and the comments poured in. Jake was inundated with messages and calls. He left work early once more to beg for my forgiveness. He knelt, tears in his eyes, pleading that it was all just a “silly game.”
But I couldn’t let it go. The trust that bound us together was broken. It wasn’t just about a few misguided posts; it was about the respect and understanding we were supposed to have for each other. I told him I needed time and space to think and heal. I moved out with Lily to another apartment.
For six months, Jake begged for forgiveness. He sent messages, left voicemails, and made small gestures to show he was sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. I told him that if he truly wanted to make amends, we needed to start anew. In my eyes, we were strangers now, and he had to court me like he did years ago when we first met.
So, we began again, slowly. We went on dates, starting with coffee and progressing to dinners. We talked a lot — about everything except the past. It was like rediscovering ourselves individually and as a couple. Jake was patient, perhaps realizing this was his last chance to salvage our once-loving relationship.
As I sit here now, reflecting on the past year, I realize how much I’ve changed. This betrayal forced me to reevaluate not only my marriage but also myself and my needs. I’ve learned that forgiveness isn’t just about accepting an apology; it’s about feeling secure and valued again. It’s a gradual process, one that we’re both committed to, step by step.
What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Share your thoughts on Facebook.
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