How to retire well
When we think about retirement, the clichés abound: heading off into the sunset on an idyllic Aegean cruise. Travel — a triptych of European cities, the joy of our hard-earned, unshackled life captured in the myriad photos proudly shared when home.
Days punctuated by padel, golf or tennis. Dog walks with friends. Reading. Concerts. Choirs. Long lunches. Shared interests. Hobbies once abandoned, now revisited with renewed vigour.
“Think of all the time you’ll have,” comment envious friends, their mortgages or family commitments holding them hostage to careers that have long lost their appeal.
And yes, retirement may be something that you dream of and, when it finally comes, embrace with warmth and gratitude. A long exhale after all those years of early mornings and long days.
But for some, retirement can be a much more complex experience. It can bring with it the recognition of growing older, the work chapter finally closed. A sudden awareness of being closer to the end than the beginning.
Being retired may also bring pressures. There may be the expectation to be more available to care for grandchildren, or elderly parents. And whilst this may be something you embrace, holding the boundary around what you can and can’t offer, can be challenging.
And for some, it can stir something deeper. The existential questions of:
Without work, who am I?
What is my identity without the title, the plaudits, the role I have inhabited for so long?
Eric Berne, the Canadian-born psychiatrist who developed Transactional Analysis, described several human “hungers” that are fundamental to our sense of wellbeing and identity. Three of these — recognition, structure and stimulus — can become especially important as we move into retirement.
Recognition hunger
This is our basic human need to be seen and recognised for who we are, and for our contribution to the world. If an important part of our identity and self-esteem has been derived from our professional role, retirement can unsettle our sense of self. Particularly when work has long been the place where we felt most competent, valued or visible.
This can also affect our relationships. Questions of Who am I now? can create uncertainty, destabilising confidence and changing how we experience ourselves within family and social systems.
Structure hunger
Many careers offer an invisible scaffold to our lives. Meetings, deadlines, routines, expectations: while frustrating at times, they provide rhythm and predictability.
Without the imposed structure of work, days can begin to feel strangely untethered. What once felt restrictive can suddenly be missed, leaving some people wondering how to fill the open space ahead of them.
Stimulus hunger
Workplaces can be busy, demanding and often unpredictable. Although challenging in the moment, they offer novelty, stimulation and opportunities to adapt and stretch ourselves.
Without that regular challenge, life can begin to feel predictable. Days may lose a sense of momentum, and some people find themselves missing the stimulation they once took for granted.
None of this means retirement is something to fear. But it does suggest that stepping into this next stage of life deserves more thought than simply stopping work. Retirement is not only an ending, it is also a transition.
So how do we retire well?
I see retirement as a time of re-invention. It offers us an opportunity to step away from the treadmill of work, to examine who we are beneath the professional identity we have carried for years, and to consider what we want from the next chapter of our lives.
If you are approaching retirement, or already there, it may help to reflect on a few questions:
What do I want for myself in this next chapter of life?
How do I want to spend my days?
What skills have I accumulated that I still want to develop, and in what capacity?
Which parts of my working life am I relieved to leave behind?
Who am I now, without the structure and identity work once provided?
And if I am uncertain, who do I want to become?
With any transition, there is also loss. And that is important to acknowledge. Retirement can bring freedom and possibility, but also grief for a role, identity and chapter of life that has ended.
So perhaps another important question is this: How will you mark the ending of your working life, and how will you welcome what comes next?
Retirement is often imagined as a destination, but perhaps it is better understood as a transition, one that asks us to reconsider identity, purpose, and what gives life meaning.
And like all transitions, it can help to have space to think, reflect and understand what this next chapter might ask of us.
If you are navigating retirement and finding the experience more complex than expected, therapy can offer a space to explore the feelings, questions and possibilities that emerge along the way.
