Retirement Blues
“You’re glowing!” a friend exclaimed as we sat down to have lunch. “Retirement certainly agrees with you!” It wasn’t the first time I’ve heard this (although it never gets old). And I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had long admired that same glow on friends and colleagues who had retired before me.
The truth is, that look wasn’t always there. Initially, I felt and looked a bit lost. “You doing okay?” my son would ask. And somedays I wasn’t sure. Life had completely shifted and felt off-kilter.
It’s not like the decision to retire was a hasty one. I spent years planning: reviewing fiscal projections until they were imprinted in my brain, lining up part time work, and mapping travel plans. Ultimately the goal was fairly simple: work less, play more.
What I wasn’t prepared for however, was the sense of loss that refused to fade as the months ticked by. I found myself mourning my professional life and identity. There was no longer a tight schedule filled with meetings, no more emails to answer or problems to solve. Even more importantly, there was no longer a work family, a community of people who shared a common purpose. One day, life is fully consumed with work and the next, it’s completely gone. It’s such an abrupt transition. And while I achieved the life I craved, there was still a sense of loss. As I questioned whether I had made the right decision, a friend reached out to share her struggles. “I wasn’t prepared for the grief” she sighed. Ahhhh, a sense of grief. That’s what it was. It was then that I knew I wasn’t alone.
No one ever talked about loss or grief. I had read volumes of retirement literature and 90% of it was dedicated to finances. Apparently, a tidy nest egg is all that’s necessary for a fulfilling post-work existence. I even belonged to a Facebook group of retired educators and 100% of them reported it was the best decision of their lives. When one member jokingly asked if anyone missed the daily grind, the resounding response was “hell no!”
It’s been a year now since I left academia. Things didn’t go exactly as planned thanks to Covid, but even so, I wish I had been better prepared for the range of emotions. I just didn’t know any better. Like other life passages, there can be an uncomfortable transition period. So, for those thinking of retirement, be prepared for it all. One moment, you are over the moon excited, and the next, you may wonder why you ever let it all go. This is perfectly normal.
To soften the transition, I recommend crafting a plan that encompasses more than finances and travel. Some things to consider:
- Find new outlets for your best work self. There’s no reason to abandon the activities you enjoyed or the strengths you owned. For example, I had a colleague who was particularly gifted at resolving conflicts among personnel. When he retired, he became a volunteer mediator. Personal talents are often tied to our identities and sense of self-worth, so exercise them!
- Set goals. Freedom is pretty amazing, but if used unwisely, can lead to boredom and depression. Retirement is the ideal time to take on new challenges and accomplish things that were once only dreams.
- Stay connected to others. The loss of a work community can be particularly difficult. Consider developing new friendships and broadening social circles.
- Think about volunteering. It’s a bit more challenging due to the pandemic but community needs are always there. And if you have professional skills to share, that’s even better! I was always a pretty good grant writer. Offering this service to non-profits keeps my professional skills fresh while providing the feeling of giving back.
- And… there’s always part-time employment. The one thing about the pandemic is that it has changed the labor world. There are numerous opportunities for people to work from home, have flexible schedules, and be entrepreneurial.
I’m not going to lie. There are still moments I miss my career and the people who made it special. That’s not such a bad thing; it’s probably pretty healthy. But… retirement life is everything I hoped and the proof is in the glow.