Coping with leaving the job . . .
In our first couple of episodes, we both talked about the end of our careers -one of us through choice, the other less so! Either way, that move away from a lifetime working in the corporate world came with some challenges for both of us. This short article talks about some of those challenges, but more importantly, optimism about what comes next.
Our retirement may be planned, it may not be. It may happen all of a sudden or you may have months, even years leading up to it. Regardless, on that first day when you would normally be on your commute to work, or when you would usually be turning on the laptop in your home office, life feels different. Life is different. Very different.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great feeling knowing that you’re free -free from the shackles of work, free from doing those things that you didn’t want to do, free from the boredom that may have crept into a job that you had fallen out of love with.
Suddenly you have choice. Choice to do whatever you want to spend your day doing. Choice to do nothing if you prefer. Choice to watch Homes Under The Hammer and Bargain Hunt if you fancy it (but please do steer clear of Loose Women, that’s when you know you’ve gone too far, too quickly)
But for all the positives, the massive change in your new life can trigger some challenges - no longer being in that work can create a palpable feeling of loss of identity and direction. Many people, especially senior people in big organisations will have spent many years becoming important at work. On Friday they were highly successful, respected, well-known people, often with a powerful job title and with many people who looked up to them, even in some cases, idolised them. On Monday morning, they’re nobody, certainly not in the same way as they were on Friday. It’s a painful truth that when you go and see the lady at the chemist, as nice as she is, she really doesn’t give a fuck how many people you’ve led or how strong your last sales quarter was: being served paracetamol is the same, whoever you used to be.
Just when you were feeling so optimistic, all of a sudden you’re a bit lost, a feeling of being untethered from something bigger than yourself. You belonged to something before, you were part of something important, and now it’s just you, on your own. You now know you really are replaceable and that the business you dedicated your heart and soul to is carrying on just fine without you. And that feeling can really hurt when you realise that as important as you thought the work you used to do was, you’ve stopped doing it but nobody seems to be that bothered.
It’s not personal, it’s just the way it is and, unsurprisingly this sudden shift away from being the big cheese can create a feeling of diminished self-worth. Shit, have I just wasted half my life? What do I do now? What is it all about? What next?
But for all of these challenges, this is actually when the fun really begins. This is when you get to shape your new future. This is when you realise that you can, within reason, do whatever you want to do. It really is wonderfully liberating. Yes, the uncertainty and disorientation about the future can be scary - where before you had structure, now you have flexibility; where before you had a clear path, now you have forks in the road. So yes, you need some purpose, some meaning in your new life but that can come in many forms and you have the power to create both.
And not only that, things will happen that you just can’t plan for. Andrew Middleton, the founder of an excellent organisation called INDY (I’m Not Done Yet) talks really well about the joy of being in the moment. That yes, of course plans matter but certainty is mostly something we invent after the event. He talks about how he increasingly finds himself paying more attention to now - not in a reckless way (he still tries to make small investments for the future, looks after his health a bit better than he used to, puts money aside when he can) but by appreciating that today is what we’ve actually got.
He knows that something will happen that he didn't plan for. Some small moment, encounter or observation that will potentially stay with him longer than whatever was on his to-do list that morning. He doesn’t know where any of it might lead, but he does know that the past has already happened, the future hasn't arrived, and today seems like a pretty good day to pay attention to. What a great approach to a new life.
So mourn what you’ve lost, but only until Loose Women has finished. Your old life was probably brilliant, but your new one will possibly be even better. Go for it, be you and enjoy.
Panners & Turps (July 2026)