Two Months from Retirement: Why I Wasn’t As Ready As I Thought

Spoiler alert: It’s not all blossoms and sunshine.

I thought retiring would feel like this—me in my garden, soaking in the sun, surrounded by blooms, excited to finally plant everything I’ve been dreaming about.

And honestly? Sometimes it does.

But as I get closer to my last day of work, there’s more going on beneath the surface: moments of uncertainty, unexpected emotions, and a whole lot of questions about what exactly I’m planting next.

A year ago, I would’ve said I felt “ready to bloom.” Excited. Clear.

And I do feel that way. But also?

There’s a little root of anxiety in the soil too. Not the kind that chokes out everything else, but the kind that quietly asks, “What now?” The kind that wonders what will fill my days, and whether I’ll still feel purposeful when I’m no longer tending the same patch of life I’ve nurtured for decades.

And since I’ve spent the last 30 years designing programs to support the mental health and well-being of students and educators, I want to say this part out loud:
Even with a PhD in social psychology and decades of experience, I still find retirement surprisingly emotional.

Because here’s the truth:
Even when you've planned wisely, retirement can still feel emotionally unmooring.
Even good soil needs time to settle before something new takes root.

What Caught Me Off Guard

I imagined myself breezing toward my June 30 retirement date like a gardener with gloves on, coffee in hand, and a list of exciting things to dig into.

But instead, I find myself noticing moments of quiet disorientation. Like when I realize I won’t be “Dr. Belansky” or “Center Director” on a team anymore. Or when I glance at my calendar and wonder—what will it look like once I’ve cleared the beds?

Last week, I took what was likely my final work trip to a rural region I’ve served for 15 years. I’ve cultivated deep relationships there and helped create real change. Saying goodbye to those incredible people—knowing I may not see them again—hit me harder than I expected.

What made it more complicated? I still felt so engaged. So energized. So alive in the work.

And yet—I know it’s time to step away.

Here’s what I didn’t quite expect:

• How strange it feels to release an identity I’ve held for so long

• How uncertain I am about what will give my days rhythm

• How much I’ll miss being part of something that’s still blooming

• How I continue to feel deeply connected to my work, and still know it’s time for new soil

If you’re feeling something similar, I want you to know:

You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just standing at the edge of a new season.

What Helped Me the Most

Once I stopped trying to yank the anxious thoughts out by the roots, I started tending to them with a little more curiosity and care.

(I mean, of course I did. I am the kind of person who will dig and dig until I understand what’s really going on beneath the surface.)

I asked myself:

• What do I want this next chapter to feel like?

• What daily rhythms help me stay grounded when everything else is shifting?

• What kinds of experiences will help me feel vibrant, useful, and alive?

I have given myself permission not to know all the answers just yet.

This season of life? I’m approaching it like a flower bed that’s been prepped and nourished—ready for planting, full of promise.
And I get to choose, slowly and intentionally, what I want to grow.

Try This: 3 Questions to Plant the Seeds of Clarity

Whether retirement is just over the horizon or already peeking through your window, here are three questions that might help you gently till the soil:

1. What do I not want to bring with me into retirement?
   (Are there routines, roles, or assumptions you’re ready to compost?)

2. What makes me feel most alive or deeply fulfilled?
   (Tiny joys or big passions—what adds color to your day?)

3. What would an ideal day feel like in this next season?
   (Less about a to-do list, more about the energy and meaning behind it.)

You don’t have to plant your entire future in one sitting. But reflecting now can help you create a garden that feels like you—not someone else’s version of retirement.

Want More Support?

I created a Retirement Vision Starter Kit to help you gently explore what’s next—before the overwhelm creeps in. It’s full of simple prompts and creative exercises to help you get rooted in what matters most.

👉 Download the Free Kit

Or, if you’re craving a real conversation with someone who gets it, I offer a free 30-minute discovery call. We’ll talk about where you are, what’s feeling uncertain, and what kind of life you want to grow next.

👉 Book Your Free Call

Here’s to planting something new—and letting this next chapter bloom with joy, connection, and meaning.

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Warmly,
Elaine

Elaine Belansky, PhD, is a retirement transition coach who helps women in their 50s and 60s design a bold, fulfilling next chapter. After a 30-year career in public health and education, Elaine now supports women who are navigating the emotional, social, and identity shifts that come with retirement. Her coaching blends science-backed tools, real-life experience, and deep empathy to help clients create lives rich in connection, learning, and meaning.

You can learn more at ElaineBelansky.com.