The Retirement Identity Crisis: An Emotional Rollercoaster
- 4 days ago
- 5 min read
By Dr. Nancy Fishman / Morgan Hill, Calif.
Many people look forward to retirement, the golden years, with great anticipation. I have heard some say they have long wanted more time for hobbies and travel. They express the desire for the freedom to do whatever they want.
It all seems so exciting to finally reach that stage in life when you envision yourself resting from all the pressures and responsibilities of work life. It can feel like the world has just opened to new possibilities and you can shop in a calorie-free candy store with no budget.
But few people talk about the shift in self-identity. What happens when you separate from the title you carried while you were working? When you are no longer an auto executive or a banker, who are you?
Pondering a question like “who am I?” is an existential mind-bender that generally emerges around the onset of puberty and follows us through our teens and into our twenties. Along the journey, people in our orbits provide feedback in the form of reflective mirroring. “My teacher tells me I’m smart, I must be smart.” “My friends say I make them laugh; I must be funny.” “You’re brave; you’d make a great firefighter.”
The development of self-image, how we view ourselves, requires a lot of outside input and years of experience that inform us of who we are. The creation of self-image is a fundamental building block that sets the stage for life choices, such as which career paths to consider, or what friends and life partners to choose.
It is only with decades of experimentation and life experiences that we hone a solid image of ourselves, one that feels honest and authentic and is identifiable to people who know us. During our productive, working years, for example, we may be recognized as a teacher, an engineer, a scientist, a community activist. We are inclined to adopt the characteristics which are stereotypically associated with the job titles, and others see us in these ways.
So, what happens when we retire and we are no longer functioning in the role we once had? Those roles provided a sense of self that had been a large part of “who am I?” Now, separated from the labels that we attached to our self-image, the struggle to find what’s left about us is very real. Often, when the euphoria of initial release from the rat race of the working world dissipates, those of us whose self-images were tightly entangled with our work roles, can become lost and depressed. Signs of this include watching hours of daytime TV, playing computer games endlessly, or withdrawal from family and friends. This kind of depression is situational; it’s a reaction to a significant change in life. It is very real and very disconcerting.
Grief is another common reaction to retirement, especially when there was high job satisfaction. The losses of a title, a routine, the work environment, work friends, and feelings of accomplishment can be staggering. We cannot swiftly replace all that a job has meant to us. There must be a period of adjustment between career life and retirement. When the excitement of starting a new chapter passes, the feelings of loss can rise to the top and becoming consuming.
Most of the time depression and grief are temporary. But they don’t always go away by themselves. You must counteract the low feelings before they spiral downward and you feel like you’ve completely lost control. Rewards inherent in a gratifying work life must be replaced, but you shouldn’t rush into everything all at once. A common piece of advice offered to the newly retired is to take a breath before jumping into new routines and commitments. The sentiment is that newly retired people need some time to say good-bye to the old image and an entire life stage.
Eventually, people see themselves in their new lives and begin to identify differently as perhaps a quilter, a crafter, a sailor, a home chef. Fresh interests give retirees an opportunity to meet new people and develop significant relationships. As delighted as you might be with your new friends, there is usually something precious missing: New friends didn’t know you in your old life and in ways you once identified yourself. They don’t picture you as a college dean, or the president of your own company, or the head of a multi-national team of problem solvers. In fact, your younger self is nonexistent in the eyes of people who didn’t know you before retirement. Sharing stories of your former life helps new friends get a full picture of who you are and what your life has been all about. The walk down memory lane is a chance for you to visit a younger version of yourself.
If you are transitioning into the retirement stage of life, or are not quite satisfied with your life post-retirement, consider five areas of focus:
Find a new raison d’être, a reason for being. Consider that you have one life and are still living it on this side of the dirt. How do you want to make your life worth living? Perhaps you would like to help raise your grandchildren or run for a political office. Give your life meaning!
Be creative. Think outside the box. Get your hands in the dirt or paint. Make things, grow things, work on that invention you have been dreaming of taking to Shark Tank.
Be adventurous. Step outside your comfort zone and try new things. Travel to places you have not previously visited. Conquer the fears that once stopped you from imagining yourself confidently enrolling in classes or learning to speak a foreign language.
Involve yourself in community. Staying connected with people is super important to longevity. Finding communities of people who are like-minded and who share your values and interests can provide comfort and personal growth. In the years ahead, you will enjoy this antidote to loneliness.
Give back. Volunteering is one of the most gratifying experiences for retirees, particularly because you can bring your wisdom and expertise to places in your community that will appreciate your gifts.
This column is devoted to psychological topics that speak to the human condition, such as relationships, family, love, loss, and happiness. The ideas, thoughts, philosophies, and observations expressed here are personal and not meant as professional advice. Names and identifying information have been changed to protect the privacy of real people.
Dr. Nancy Fishman moved to Santa Clara County in 2016 from Michigan, where she was a practicing psychologist. Currently, she is a strategy consultant to individuals, families, businesses, family law attorneys and their clients, working on coping, managing, reorganizing, pivoting and innovating. She is the founder of Forgotten Harvest, one of the nation’s largest food recovery operations. She is also the creator of Silicon Valley’s A La Carte food recovery and distribution initiative, and the organizer of Feeding Morgan Hill. Nancy lives on a family compound with her husband, sisters, brother-in-law, and a pack of dogs.
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