There may be a tiny bit of jealousy. The right thing to do is go back to how you felt before you told anyone. Why keep working because of what others think?

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Ask Rebecca is smart, honest advice to readers’ questions about life, family and relationships by columnist Rebecca Eckler. Got a question for Rebecca? Submit it anonymously on the form here. You can also send an email to NPadvice@postmedia.com.

I’m in my early 60s, and after more than 35 years working in an industry I’ve loved, I’ve decided to retire at the end of this year. I’m fortunate to be able to do so financially. My children all have their own lives, my mortgage is paid off and my husband wants to keep working for another few years, mostly because he loves what he does.

Until recently, I was incredibly excited. I’ve worked hard and was looking forward to not setting an alarm, responding to emails, meeting deadlines, sitting in virtual meetings and organizing my life around work.

When I made the decision, I knew I could fill my days. I have friends I can finally see without rushing, movies I want to watch, books I want to read, places I want to travel, volunteer, do yoga or do nothing at all. And happily, I’m expecting my first grandchild in a couple of months.

But when I started telling my friends and colleagues, I was expecting them to be happy for me. But almost everyone reacted with some version of, “What are you going to do all day?” I’ve been told I’ll be bored within months, that I’ll miss feeling useful, that I’ll lose my sense of purpose and, most upsetting, that I’ll lose a large part of my identity. One friend even told me I should keep working because I’ll need a reason to wake up every morning.

I’m now second-guessing my decision. I keep wondering whether they’re right. Is the possibility of losing my identity, being bored or not being needed, good enough reasons to keep working? — Ready to Retire, I Think

First, Mazel Tov. You have accomplished something 95 per cent of us sitting in virtual meetings fantasize about while pretending our cameras are frozen. You no longer have to work! I’ve spent most of my life complaining I’m too busy, so knowing I might one day complain that I’m not feels strangely aspirational.

But back to your letter. I’m not suggesting you retire from some of your friendships or colleagues at the same time you retire from your job. But honestly? I find their collective reaction a little perplexing. Friends are generally supposed to be happy when we’re happy, even if they wouldn’t make the same choice. It’s baffling to me that when you shared news you are excited about everyone suddenly expected you to produce a business plan for doing absolutely nothing.

I’m going to say it. There may be a tiny, teeny bit of jealousy. You’ll get to spend your days however you want while they’re still commuting, catching up on emails flagged 34 days ago, sitting through 90-minute meetings to discuss something that could have been summarized in a text, and wondering why Brad’s microphone still isn’t working in 2026 — all while they quietly calculate how many more years they may be stuck in their work grind.

That doesn’t make them bad friends. But are they actually worried about you? Or worried about themselves?

There is something weird about how we treat retirement. So, let’s talk about this whole, “You’ll lose your identity” argument. You are not your email signature or title. You didn’t become a person because you started working, so why would you stop being one because you stop working? You are a wife, mother, friend, daughter, and I’m presuming an interesting human. Why would retiring erase all that?

Maybe you’ll occasionally get bored. So what? We’re talking about boredom here, not a life-threatening disease. Also, being bored isn’t the same as being unhappy. We’ve become so uncomfortable doing nothing. God forbid you spend a Wednesday doing absolutely nothing and actually enjoy it.

Maybe you’ll go to yoga at 11 a.m. Maybe you’ll have lunch with a friend that lasts three hours. Maybe you’ll read three chapters of a book and nap. Maybe you’ll become obsessed with your grandchild — Mazel Tov again! Don’t underestimate the timing of that first grandchild. I think you may soon discover an entirely new tiny human who considers you extremely useful.

You weren’t worried about retirement until everybody else started worrying for you. Why keep working because of what other people think? The right thing to do is go back and imagine nobody knows about your decision. Not your colleagues, friends or your hairdresser — nobody to approve, criticize or ask, “What will you do all day?” When it’s only you and the decision, how do you feel about retiring?

Exactly! Please go back to how you felt before you told anyone, and go into retirement excited, happy and at peace with your decision. If someone told me I could finally have complete control over my days, I wouldn’t see retirement as an ending. I’d reach for the champagne.

You mentioned you’re a yogi, so you already know yoga teaches us to let go of attachment, stay present and that stillness isn’t the same as doing nothing. After an hour twisting yourself into a pretzel, the final, most important pose, Savasana — lying flat on the floor doing absolutely nothing — is the one you have been practicing for all along.

So, the next time your friends ask how you’re going to spend your days, smile and say something like, “Whatever the f**k I want!

Namaste.
Love Rebecca
Rebecca Eckler is an internationally bestselling author, founder of re:books publishing, Rivkah Books, and co-founder of CANREADS. She’s a professional oversharer and observer of human behaviour, and has spent decades writing about life’s messy twists. She has no formal qualifications for this, other than a lifetime of questionable decisions and excellent stories.

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