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Drleftys comment on a recent thread about retirement anxiety got me thinking: Dana isn’t alone in this. Why does the early”golden age” so often feel more like free-fall, and what can we do about it?
For decades, you’ve been sold the vision: retirement is the ultimate prize. A perpetual vacation where the most stressful decision is whether the day starts with a third cup of coffee or a walk in the park. But for many who actually arrive there, that reality turns out to be slightly different. It’s less “golden age” and more a state of low-grade, constant existential anxiety. This isn’t just about putting one’s feet up; it’s about having the three main scaffolding beams of adult life simultaneously chainsawed out from under you: professional identity, assured income, and daily structure.
For forty years, your job title served as the answer to “Who are you?” It’s a status symbol, and a huge chunk of one’s identity. The moment the working life ends, that credential vanishes. If someone asks a new retiree what they do, the reply is simply, “Oh, I’m retired.” And often, you can see the social downgrade happening right there. One goes from being a respected professional to feeling like they’re wearing an invisibility cloak, just a person who knows what day the recycling gets picked up. The struggle to fill that void with “meaningful hobbies” can be harder than it sounds.
Most people approaching retirement run the numbers a hundred times and have been good savers. Intellectually, they are fine. But knowing that in your head and feeling it in your gut are two totally different experiences. When you’re working, the money goes in. Every few weeks, a reassuring electronic deposit. Now? It’s only going out. You are watching the account balance shrink, line by line, month by month. That psychological switch, from accumulator to liquidator, can be jarring.
Adding to this is the vague, creeping fear of outliving one’s resources, the phantom menace of longevity. The biggest worry isn’t just the current withdrawal rate; it’s being 95, healthy, and trying to remember where the emergency jar of pennies was hidden. Suddenly, having to make complex, personal investment decisions feels like a much heavier burden than any deadline ever faced at work.
Work might have been a time sink, but it was a helpful one. It provided structure. The alarm went off, people knew where they had to be, and they knew how to fill 80% of the day. That comfortable order is now replaced by a giant, slightly scary expanse of unscheduled time.
At first, many find this bliss. But soon, you realize you’re constantly feeling a bit disoriented, like waking up on a Sunday, but it’s Tuesday. And that instant social life of the office? Gone or greatly reduced. Furthermore, for some, the unexpected intimacy of spending 24/7 together can strain relationships, adding a layer of mild domestic tension to the external, existential kind.
So, the retirement that was promised? It requires some effort. It means that retirees stop passively waiting for the good life to happen and instead actively build a new one: constructing a new identity, mastering a new spending plan, and intentionally replacing the social ecosystem that vanished. Otherwise, this great “freedom” can just feel like floating off down the river of life without a paddle.
Nobody can prescribe a bespoke solution. For myself, it was having a ten-year cash buffer to defeat the financial anxiety, ramping up my already established sporting commitments, and volunteering to run sporting clinics to combat directionlessness, and having an already well-rounded social and family life. But that’s me. Everyone needs to grab that paddle, the river doesn’t care if you’re ready, it just keeps moving.
Probably because I never worked in a 9-5 office environment — I’ve worked from home since around 1997 — I’ve not experienced any anxiety or disorientation as my work slows down to just a few hours a week.
I’ve always had something to do, and my current time-filling hobbies — working out, singing/acting, refereeing and delivering Meals on Wheels — are the same ones I had when I was working a much busier schedule. And it has never bothered me just to park my butt in front of the TV for a couple of hours, or stretch out on the deck with a book.
The anxiety that besieges me is about health. I am fixated on worrying about terrible things happening, perhaps understandably since I was blindsided by my own cancer ten years ago and by the current terminal cancer in a loved one. When I can’t sleep at night, it’s because of random thoughts about health disasters.
It’s a bad habit to get into, and so far I haven’t been able to shake it.
After my spouse went through a medical crisis in his 40s, he began thinking of an eventual early retirement in his mid-50s if he were to live that long. (Spoiler: he’ll be 80 in a couple of months.) I was on board and ready to leave my high-stress job, especially since I had progressive hearing loss from age 32 that was worsening.
We had vacationed in and liked the US Virgin Islands where several of our friends were living, and a five-year plan emerged. We were already debt-free and started maxing out our contributions to retirement accounts. We cleaned up loose ends, selling a few real estate investments. We bought a fixer-upper house on the island and found renters until we needed it.
We put all our worldly goods into a shipping container and moved down at ages 53 & 55. Our “tropical retirement” came in stages. I easily found an interesting & enjoyable full time job with a modest salary and health insurance (and later I went part time.) My spouse renovated our island house, and then took his own low-stress, part time job rather than play golf every day. We met great people who are still our best friends. It was an idyllic time in our lives.
We moved back to the continental US eight years later because the health care facilities in the islands were poor, and because our parents in the US were aging. We never did go back to high stress, high-paying full-time jobs working for other people. We took SS at 62. My spouse stopped working for good ten years ago. I freelanced as an editor and writer at my own schedule for 20 years. We went on long trips around the US & Canada in a small camper van. Now we live in a CCRC and love it.
What made early semi-retirement possible was starting young to build our IRAs and Roths, leaving them alone to just grow, and eventually building other brokerage accounts too. As soon as we could, we avoided carrying debts, including mortgages and car loans. If you have no debt, you have a lot of flexibility.
Congratulations. Sounds great.
I liked reading your story, ChrisG. And, agree with your last thought about having flexibility with no debt. We found that also. Chris
Good post Mark.
Our perspective on investing changes once retired. I remember the first down market after retirement. I became more anxious because I realized that I no longer was putting money into my investment accounts and what I had needed to last through my retirement.
Do others find it disheartening that many people define themselves by their job? While it’s undeniable that many colleagues and others will define you by your job title, allowing your job to dictate how you see yourself seems to be self-limiting.
I happily retired at age 55, and have found the last three years to be full of fun, family, friends, and engaging activities. My goal is to be a better retiree than worker.
Given the abundance of available activities, what’s really preventing recent retirees from diving in?
Bob, well said! My life became richer and more fulfilling after retirement in my 50’s. I learned new skills that can bring in extra income if I want. But mainly, I enjoy helping others at my expense and to see the smile on their faces says it all.
As I prepared to sell my business and retire, I found myself repeating the same line over and over—probably 30 or 40 times—to anyone who asked what I’d do next: “My life isn’t defined by running a business”.
Starting conversations with “what do you do” is an American peculiarity. As is “how are you” as a greeting, with no expectation of a reply.
Serious question, because this has come up, and I don’t know what to answer: if I am asked what do I do, do I say I AM a doctor, or I WAS a doctor? Retired x 5 years btw.
I understand. I tell folks that I was an engineer before I retired. But I still think like an engineer. 🙂
If you’re no longer practicing, why mention “doctor” at all? But if you insist: “I’m a retired doctor”.
If they ask what I do, and I say I am retired, the next question is always, “what did you do” ? When I reply doctor, I am often told “you are still” or “you are always” a doctor” It makes me uncomfortable 🤷♂️. I’m in the camp of not feeling that I lost anything when I retired.
True. I’d say it’s an English-speaking peculiarity, since I’ve encountered it with Brits, Irish, Israelis and Canadians as well, but never from the Chinese or Spanish-speakers in my life.
Thanks Mark, another interesting perspective.
I have written before about my Dad’s failed retirement at 68. Please to report that at 77 he is going much better at it!
For myself, I’ve recently had 4 months not working after selling our business. I’m 52 and feel like I still have a lot of work left in me, but so many people have asked me “How’s retirement?” To be honest, I have felt quite offended and annoyed by the repeated suggestions that I’m ready to “hang up my boots”.
I have no doubt that you have to be emotionally ready to retire. I’m not there yet.
Eighteen months before I retired, the idea of giving up work hadn’t even crossed my mind. But six months later, something just clicked, and suddenly I was actively looking for an exit. This was despite my company having its most profitable years ever in the post-COVID period. The catalyst, I believe, was a combination of factors: three very long-term employees moving on (all with a minimum of 15 years working for me), the passing of my mother, and the retirement of my wife.
When I was 52 I was barely halfway through paying for four children’s sixteen years of college, had remortgage our house to help do so, had used all our brokerage account such as it was and nary a thought about retiring.
Good thing, as my highest earning years wouldn’t begin for eight more years.
The anxiety is not real for us.
I didn’t retire early. I retired exactly when I planned to retire. I had just turned 67 and my wife (who is younger) had retired about eight months earlier, as soon as she qualified for her retirement.
I already had hobbies I planned to pursue. I already had a list of hobbies I planned to add (and I dropped some of them). I still volunteer at my church and as an elementary school reading tutor. I have plenty of social connections for lunch, coffee, etc. We’ve attended several political gatherings lately to demonstrate our beliefs and values. We’ve also taken some great trips in the last 5-1/2 years.
Neither of us have been anxious about finding a way to spend our time. Although I admit that sometimes I need to be nudged in a different direction occasionally. In fact, that happened today when I finally got to work on the fallen leaves in our backyard. Neither of us are spenders. In fact, sometimes we just need to tell one another it’s OK to buy this or that.
Sounds like a way to do it. Although I’d be looking for some teenagers for the leaves.
Thanks for another great post, Mark. I can speak to some of the financial anxiety since we experienced it. Spouse less than me, but they knew nothing about our finances. LOL! We are almost 2 years in now, have all our income streams set, and have had almost a year to see how things would go and they have gone well. I am not a spreadsheet person like so many here, so I was very happy when my simple estimates of how I thought things would work pretty much came to pass. I am a lot less anxious about our finances now. And Spouse is on board and learning which I am glad.
Our anxieties these days come from our sandwich generation life, especially the elder care part. I have spoken about it some here and know others have been in our shoes. I need to make another post about it sometime. Chris
Just using your brain for some critical thinking, an old school mechanism, apparently still works!
Aside from a few times that I can recall since “retiring” at 59 (now, approaching 66) I either find things to do or they seem to find me. Sometimes it’s just simply fantastic to have nothing on the agenda for the day. I truly love having no set agendas (especially meetings). When people ask what I do, my straight up answer is, “Generally, whatever I want to do.” Many cannot seem to appreciate that choice.
My typical work week for roughly the last 40 years of my career was at least 60 hours (plus drive time, which I also do not miss in the least.) More typically, they were closer to 80 hours and six to seven days a week and few chances for real vacation time. Running a two or three shift operations entity has its own thrills. To this day, I have no idea how I pulled that off, had a 45 minute ride each way and still did the typical guy chores on the house and property of an acre or two, depending (we’ve moved/relocated 9 or 10 times – I’ve lost track.) What I gave up while trying to sock away as much as possible, was family time (or, I should say, more of) which can’t be replaced. My career positions later in life afforded the chance to bring my wife and sometimes the whole family to a temporary work location in another state or country on the company dime which was a nice perk or reward at the completion of or in the middle of a longer term stay. So, there were trade offs. Bath, the English countryside and London were terrific. Indeed, my wife pulled the real load, running the household and raising four children.
The other temporary or delayed loss was, “me time”, which is why I cherish it now. I am an introvert by nature but I have really enjoyed reading and learning about a wide array of topics and “retirement” has given me the time to do such. As others mention here, our retirement plan went off the rails shortly after starting with severe family health issues and mucho unplanned spending of significant magnitude (and bad timing) to go with it. Good news is that everyone is still present although health challenges remain at the forefront. In fact, they are “so”present, two of our kids them have moved back in with us while they sort things out. That wasn’t in the plan either. But now, we get to spend a different kind of quality time together, which has been interesting, for sure.
Bottom line, a long time ago on this site, I learned that the financial challenges that came out of the proverbial left field should be considered in light of the fact that we were able to deal with them without a catastrophic result, at least financially. Still standin’, as they say. However, after 3.5 or so hours of relocating about 10” of wet snow today, you can be assured I’m sittin’ for awhile. See? There is plenty to do! Thank goodness for Motrin. I am quite certain that I also get a lot of help from upstairs in my investing endeavors which has been quite nice while it’s lasted. Time to row toward less risky harbors.
Best to all,
Greg
My spouse is 10 years younger but serious health issues appeared when she was 50 and eventually forced an early retirement. She was opposed to this and after a short sabbatical attempted to return to work, but her disease returned with a vengeance.
Her anxiety was the opposite of what some experience. As a “retiree” her family expected her to care for the elderly. In fact, relocation was expected (it didn’t happen). What a backhanded reward for a forced retirement! I managed this by forcefully intervening. I was described as “the big bad wolf”. Meanwhile one sibling travelled periodically to Cuba for “dancing lessons” (without his spouse) and to Europe. They currently travel periodically to solo or together to Spain and plan to retire there.
It all worked out but I had to step in several times to end the craziness. I call it a family intervention.
G continues to cross the country 3-4 times a year to manage elder care. This has been going on for 5 years.
The good news is we oversaved and underspent. So, our budget can accommodate the financial requirements. However, I worked longer with a true, full retirement in my 70s. If not, things would be different.
However, G earned SS on her own right and a pension, too. As well as socking about 30% of her income away in retirement accounts.
We won’t outlive our savings, but I long ago decided I wasn’t interested in “things”. Besides, there is nothing I can do or buy that will extend my life.
I do find retirement to be completely boring. Now, this is in part due to my relatively short medical leash and the fact that my condition interferes with many activities.
I prefer solitude to the chatter and the noise. Living in a retirement community is an odd experience and so many worry about the wrong things, or get upset with trivia. So many want to talk about nothingness. This infects the young, too. Taylor Swift came to town and shortly thereafter I had a nephrostomy exchange. While being prepped the nurses were dancing around and singing the praises of Ms. Swift and her wonderful concert. As for me? I was a lump of meat face down on the slab. Coincidentally that was one of the more difficult exchanges I’ve had. Although the pseudomonas infection and sepsis from another exchange was the topper, to date.
In 2025 Icona Pop’s “I Love it” became my favorite song. Let’s all sing together: “I don’t care…….”.
When I go in for my periodic MRI and CT I’m given a headset to receive instructions, and I insist “no music”. I’d rather listen to the beebs and wharbles of the machine and that mechanical voice intoning “breath in….hold your breath…breath out.” If not for the need to follow instructions, I’d fall asleep.
I’m fortunate that my medical leash is such that I can periodically escape. But there are risks of going too far afield. Something will kill me and at this point I think it will be boredom or someone’s stupidity. Those seniors on golf carts are dangerous!
I’ve always wondered if Mr. “Breathe in… hold your breath” gets a commission every time a CT machine uses his voice recording. He’d be one of the wealthiest guys on the planet.
Normr I can relate to some of what you wrote. Spouse and I are firmly in rhe sandwich generation at this early part of our retirement. It continues to be difficult. We are also feeling the loss of Spouse’s brother (I have talked about many times here) with the holidays approaching. Hang in there with your health issues. Chris
This is a very timely and informative article for me and as always, I read and appreciate all of the comments. It is comforting to know that I am not alone in fearing the loss of identity and purpose that may accompany my decision to “hang them up” (hopefully in the next 3-5 years). It is equally comforting to know that with proper planning and diligence, the sense of loss can be avoided or at least managed. As a planner by nature, I have been researching ways to position myself for a smooth landing. By researching, I mean reading books and blogs as well as talking to people who have retired. The one common theme for me has been that you need to identify activities or causes that bring you joy and a sense of fulfillment and then start cultivating these passions before you retire with the same diligence as I did preparing our finances. Not easy, but certainly achievable. One last thing, for those recently retired or still looking ahead to retirement, I encourage you to explore a company called My Next Season based in Charlotte. In short, they provide coaching for individuals nearing retirement. The testimonials on the website are very powerful even if you do not engage in their well structured program.
Three or four years out? That’s your cue to start finding things you love doing outside of the job. Get out there and experiment with social activities. My bias is definitely toward sports, but just follow whatever interests you. Whatever sticks over these next few years will be a huge boost when you transition. Trust me, it’s best to have that social foundation ready long before you retire, and make sure the activities are things you can easily do during the day to replace those working hours.
Thanks Mark. That’s what I am working on!
Why do you have to do any of those things?
You can’t cultivate passions. You are what you are, you like doing what you like doing now and in the future the same.
It seems to me you are overthinking it and setting yourself up for disappointment. If it is that big a job, I submit you aren’t or won’t be ready to retire.
Dick, I could not disagree more vehemently.
You can most definitely cultivate passions. You try things you might like, and if you’re lucky you find something that incites enthusiasm and becomes a part of your life.
Ten years ago I never even imagined doing community theater. Now I do a play every year. Four years ago I dipped a toe into Meals on Wheels, and now I can’t imagine not doing it. I thought I disliked barbershop music. Now I compete in it.
To me a life of “you are what you are” seems like a very sad rut to fall into.
Absolutely you can cultivate passions. Otherwise we are condemned to be the same narrow horizon people we were when constrained by 40-70+ hours of work per week necessarily. I’m hoping to have time to paint, cook, spend more time exercising in the outdoors and of course travel. And make new, meaningful social connections particularly as I relocate.
If we don’t cultivate passions what do we do – lie in bed longer, allow chores to fill the day, get through TV box sets faster, while away hours watching even more sport?
Thank you Mike! That’s very encouraging. I am not proud to admit this but my job/career very much consumed me over the past 35+ years. Sadly my chosen career (and long commute) almost demanded it. But I have time to figure out how to replace that sense of purpose and am hopeful knowing that it can, and does, happen!
This is a message all of us retirees should read and profit from!
I may be overthinking it, but I have seen the negative effects of not being prepared.
I hear that this happens, but it didn’t happen to me, possibly because I stayed busy. The first nine months after I officially retired I did my old job as a part-time contractor while taking writing classes at a local university. Then I spent fifteen years mostly traveling – planning it, reading about it, doing it and writing about it. By the time I was grounded by rheumatoid arthritis and then by avoiding Covid, work was way in the past. Now that I’m living in a CCRC, there is so much going on I need a proper calendar to track what I’m doing. (The first week of November there were 77 exercise classes, including dance but excluding drop in pickleball and table tennis, and 55 other activities.)
Of course, it helps enormously to have a pension as well as SS, but the lack of a COLA is a concern. Since moving to the CCRC I am supplementing my income with interest and dividends from my brokerage account, but I still have reinvestment turned on for some of the funds.
P.S. I was 53 when I retired, that was October 1st, 2000.
If you were able to retire at 53 with a pension, (even without a COLA) consider yourself very, very fortunate.
I was fortunate, but I was also a saver. I was well paid, but if you subtracted my mortgage (which I paid off when I retired), and the amount I was saving, and allowed for a much lower tax hit, I was living on 40% of my salary. My house was small by today’s standards, and I didn’t drive expensive cars. My travel was very much at the budget end.
Retiring at 53 is gutsy. That means perhaps 40-45 years in retirement if there is longevity in the genes. Over such a long span the lack of a COLA becomes magnified by inflation. I’d suppose a larger retirement nest egg and more aggressive portfolio could compensate; for example, a portfolio at 53 for a working person could gradually morph into a “fully retired” portfolio at age 70. Someone retiring early might need to have a more aggressive portfolio than a typical retiree. This is all conjecture, because a pension offsets some of this and relieves the dependency on retirement savings. Everyone’s situation is different.
Kathy, you mention the lack of a COLA quite often. You must have known that situation long before you decided to retire at 53. Also that you were looking at 30 + years into the future on that pension.
I bet you had this figured out using interest and dividends and if necessary assets with a high level of certainty. Hasn’t your overall spending decreased at this point?
I mention the lack of a COLA because it makes no sense to have a pension without one – which is why SS has a COLA. I had lived in the US for some time before I realized my pension wouldn’t increase after I retired, which would not have been the case in the UK. Then, as of 1998, a change by my employer meant it wouldn’t increase after I reached 30 years service.
As I have mentioned multiple times my spending has increased since I moved to a CCRC, and it will increase every year going forward as the monthly fee increases.
I wish I had a COLA too, but if you are the person justifying the current and future cost of the plan, not committing to a COLA makes a lot of sense.
I bet most people would be happy just to have a pension. We used to give ad hoc COLAs (seven over several years), but once there was a 401k in effect for tens years those COLAs were stopped on the basis the 4% company matching contribution was effectively an COLA in advance.
Same here. I know this rudderless feeling is real for lots of people and I sympathize, but I haven’t experienced the issue myself.
I have been retired 16 years from a high profile, high level job I enjoyed for many years. When I retired I experienced none of what you refer to — loss of professional identity, assured income, and daily structure.
Yes, I am unique because of my pension providing assured income and with SS added there was no drop in the income that we lived on before retirement although 16 years later there has not been a COLA to my pension and never will be.
However, by investing all income (mostly equity) above base salary our investments today can easily provide dividend and interest income to make up for inflation.
But at our ages we are truly in the slow, near no go years so our discretionary spending has declined. We used to spend $25-30,000 a year on travel. Since we can’t go to Florida this year, that’s a savings of $25,000 or so.
But the loss of professional identity (I was once named Employee Benefit Professional of the Year by a national magazine) and daily structure never bothered me and honestly I don’t know why.
Perhaps we spent so much time traveling the first several years after I retired I didn’t notice. It may also be that I took phased retirement for 18 months before full retirement and got used to the idea. .
You’re right, often I don’t know what day of the week it is or actually care much of the time. These days I know the days mostly by healthcare appointments. 😟
People don’t change because they retired. The events of life don’t change, both good and bad.
Perhaps expectations for retirement are unrealistic sometimes.
The biggest stress factor is finances for most people, eventually followed by health. Both are things that take decades of preparation but are the majority of people willing to do it?
PS For some I think early retirement (mid to early 50s) can be difficult and not able to live up to expectations and with an enhanced longevity risk.
How about some actual data to back up the PS? Reads like pure speculation. Possibly envy.
I said “I think” so yup, it’s just my opinion. But it seems logical given relatively few people do it.
Envy? I never thought about retiring before I did, I really enjoyed my job.
Actually I had no chance at 53 I was still paying for college for four children.
I also haven’t experienced any anxiety or feeling of disjointedness finishing work; my wife, Suzie, is the same. The phrase “like a duck to water” comes to mind. But I’ve read and heard many people talk about the feeling. Anecdotal evidence suggests it is very much a real thing for a lot of retirees…I think I’m just very easily contented.
Mark, this post brought to mind a former client, a life long stay at home mom.
It was not the retirement she had in mind. I could hear the disappointment in her voice when they came to my office to have their tax return prepared. “I envisioned getting out and traveling after Jim retired, but all he does each day is just sit in his chair and look out the window”.
Jim had but one job for the duration of his adult life. Early in his career the employer offered all the workerbees the choice of $10,000 in cash, or a $10,000 stake in the company. Most grabbed the cash, Jim wisely jumped on the stock, and was rewarded handsomely 45 years later when he retired. They built a nice new home, and had the resources to fulfill Sue’s dream of traveling. Sadly, that La-Z-Boy gravity kept Jim’s butt pinned to the recliner, thwarting Sue’s dreams of travel.
I sold my business, and heard that Jim passed away. I do not know if Sue ever got a chance to travel. I’ll always remember the sadness in her voice.
Sad story. My wife often tells people who ask about our retired lifestyle that because it isn’t for everyone, we’re very fortunate that we both want to do it. So true.
Dan, I find your recounting of the couple’s experience very sad. I hope the poor lady gets the chance to experience some travel with friends.
There’s nothing wrong with solo travel. It keeps you focused on what you came to see. In Sue’s place I’d have been inclined to leave Jim in the recliner and gone anyway.
Three years into retirement, and structure, purpose, commitment and gratitude still shape and color my life. What an unexpected gift, this stage of life. And I love that the answer to “what do you do?” no longer must tangentially address expectations of measuring up. No anxieties on my part, other than an overriding sense of the preciousness of time and the uncertainties ahead of becoming infirm. My financial journey has brought me to this time, and I am thankful for it.
It sounds like you’re having a great retirement experience, an excellent outcome we all hope for!