A note from Darcy:
Some people spend years daydreaming about retirement—the open calendar, the freedom, the chance to finally “do nothing.” But what hyapens when that dream starts to feel different once it’s real?
In today’s guest post, you’ll hear from Becky Healy, a former State Farm leader just a few months into retirement. She’s learning lessons most of us never think about while we’re planning our retirement, and I wanted to share them with those of you with retirement on your minds.
These retirement reflections aren’t about money or logistics, but about identity, purpose, and the quiet surprises of life after work. Read on—and consider how you might want to plan differently now to create the life you want later.
Retirement Reflections: Fishing for a New Identity
by Becky Healy
It happened again last night.
I woke up babbling about revising the memo and preparing a communication plan to roll out the company’s new retirement plan. Then I sat up, looked around and realized communication plans and memos were no longer my responsibility.
I retired nine months ago, but I was still having work dreams. What the heck?
Let me back up a bit.
After I graduated from college, I bounced around from one newspaper to another as a reporter. I enjoyed the work, but the pay was a little on the light side. When I fell into a communications position at a Fortune 50 company, I was fulfilled, relied upon, and blissfully happy for 45 years. I’ll admit there were days I dreaded going to the office, and I didn’t enjoy interactions with challenging people. I worked long hours and often sacrificed my personal life to meet deadlines.
But there were benefits. I wasn’t a clerk, a specialist or an analyst. I was a writer, editor, and wordsmith. I loved helping people throughout the organization. Deadlines heightened my creativity. The teams I worked with were industrious, talented people with incredible senses of humor. We balanced stress with laughter.
When I turned fifty-five, I never once thought about retirement. I was healthy, happy, and challenged. Others I worked with started heading into the sunset. When I bumped into them in the community, they gushed that retirement was bliss. They had time to do what they wanted. They didn’t have to get up early.
When asked when I was going to retire, I’d reply with a vague “soon.”
One day, my responsibilities were rearranged, and my duties no longer included the work I loved. Rather than becoming one of those bitter people who griped about the company, I finally announced my retirement.
The first few months were fine. I was busy buying a new house and moving across the country. I still had access to my work email. Friends and co-workers stayed connected and asked me questions.
I was part of something.
And then one day I wasn’t.
I was on my own. No email. No deadlines. No questions to answer.
I’d been striving to meet deadlines my entire working life. It was tough to fill nearly unlimited free time. Work invaded my dreams for months.
One day, while driving aimlessly around town, it struck me. I had been kind of a bright fish at work. I got calls and emails asking for help with a grammar question or to share what I knew about a company milestone.
In my new life, no one called or asked for anything.
Now, I no longer had an identity. When I slipped off that familiar cloak of the workplace, I felt naked.
I brooded. I watched too much TV. The day I spent an hour wandering up and down the grocery store aisles searching for nothing, I knew it was time to quit lamenting the loss of the old me and start building the new me.
Here’s how I found a post-retirement identity.
1. Make new friends.
I complicated my retirement by moving to a new state. I was closer to family, but I left behind friends to have dinner with or see a movie. I stayed connected via text and social media, but I missed talking with people in person.
So, when asked, I joined a neighborhood breakfast group. Every week, we carpool to a restaurant, eat eggs and bacon, shoot the breeze, and support one another. When there was a vacancy on the Homeowners Association board of directors, I accepted the offer to join.
2. Find new ways to use my skills.
I believe everyone has a story to tell, and I now have time to dig for those stories. That’s why I began working with a local nursing facility to tell residents’ stories. I also began experimenting with new techniques to polish my personal writing, and I signed up for online courses.
3. Seek assistance.
I asked fellow retirees for guidance. Their input confirmed it was time to quit whining, move forward and maybe get a pet. I also called upon professional colleagues I’d met over the years.
Those conversations lead to coaching sessions and classes to help enhance clarity around what I wanted and improve my focus. I sought ways to expand my horizons and signed up to be a citizen archivist with the National Archives.
***
Through conversations and self-exploration, I learned that grandkids and gardening made some retirees happy. Others enjoyed traveling and volunteering. But for me, my new identity had to fit my interests and aspirations.
I still set an alarm and have a morning routine. I make lists. I mentally edit articles I read online. While whispers of my past persist, I continue to seek a new identity that fits.
Becky Healy has returned to her love of fiction writing after retiring from a successful career in journalism and corporate communications. Her stories are blossoming on pages yet to be released. When not writing, she enjoys seeking inspiration from fellow writers, spending time with friends and exploring her native Colorado. Contact her at AQuietPage@outlook.com
Need help getting clear on who you are and what you want NOW? Check out Coach Darcy’s on-demand class, Get Career Clear:
