The retirement I didn’t see coming

I’m turning 60 this year.

And this wasn’t supposed to be my retirement story.

I fully expected to keep working. I love working. I’ve been working since I was 12 years old — when I became the first girl in my area in the 1970s to get a paper route. I can still remember the early mornings, the independence, the pride of earning my own money. Work wasn’t just something I did — it was part of who I was.

Over the decades, my career evolved in ways I’m deeply proud of. I’ve pivoted from CPA to financial advisor, to sales leader, to HR leader. Reinvention energized me. Growth fueled me. I have always been excited by change.

But this change?
This one felt different.

Losing my position wasn’t part of the plan. It was an emotional setback I didn’t anticipate. I had been deeply enmeshed with my role — my title, my influence, my contribution. When it ended, I didn’t just lose a job. I lost structure. Identity. Daily rhythm. A sense of momentum.

For someone who thrives on purpose and performance, the silence that follows an abrupt ending can be deafening.

Even when you’re resilient.

And I am resilient.

I’ve studied transition. I know the change curve. Shock. Denial. Frustration. Reflection. Experimentation. Acceptance. I moved through every stage — sometimes gracefully, sometimes not. There were moments of doubt, moments of grief, and moments of clarity.

What surprised me most was this:

Even when retirement (or career disruption) isn’t your choice, it can still become your calling.

Many high achievers face a retirement they didn’t see coming. Sometimes it’s organizational change. Sometimes it’s health. Sometimes it’s market shifts. Sometimes it’s simply timing. But when work has been your arena for decades, stepping away — voluntarily or not — is not just a logistical shift.

It’s a psychological one.

You begin to ask:

  • Who am I without my title?

  • Where does my value live now?

  • What does structure look like when no one is setting it for me?

  • For me, this transition has become a blessing — though I didn’t see it that way at first.

I realized that what I was navigating personally is what so many successful professionals quietly struggle through. Retirement is often framed as a financial milestone. But emotionally, socially, psychologically — it can feel like free-fall.

So I chose to lean in.

Today, I am a certified retirement coach focused on helping high-performing professionals make smooth, intentional transitions. Because retirement isn’t the end of the game.

It’s a new beginning.

But new beginnings require design. They require identity work. They require structure. They require resilience. They require fitness — mentally, emotionally, socially, and physically.

This wasn’t the retirement I expected.

But it may be the one I was meant for.

If you’re navigating a transition you didn’t plan — whether you’re approaching retirement or facing an unexpected pivot — know this:

You are not starting over.
You are starting forward.

And sometimes the retirement we don’t see coming becomes the one that prepares us to help others see theirs more clearly.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to connect.

— Diane

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Who Am I Without a Title?