Market Data 
Julia put down her fork and blinked across the table at me, lids fluttering as rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings. “You’re what, now?” my closest friend asked.
“Retiring,” I repeated around a mouthful of roasted beets. “End of this year, maybe the beginning of next.”
She waved away the server refilling water glasses and pelted me with a series of questions. “How will you pay for things? Won’t you be bored? What if the next administration tanks the economy? Why now, when you’ve had the most successful run of your career?”
The answers to her questions were: I’ve got it covered. Nope, never. That’s a legitimate concern. And even though success has been rewarding, I want to live more now that I’m in my mid-50s, not spend whatever years I have left in front of a computer screen.
I started working when I was a teenager
Thanks to a “work till you drop” ethic instilled by second-generation Italian-American parents, I first joined the workforce as a babysitter at 13. By 15, I was cashiering 20 hours a week in a local supermarket.
Fast-forward through an advanced college degree and three decades of struggles, rejections, and career shifts in publishing, and I was back where I’d started: journalism, where I landed bylines in some of the world’s top publications.
It felt easy — for a while. But three summers ago, as darkness fell and crickets began their chirping courtship, I was still answering emails. My cat head-bumped me, begging for attention. Annoyed, I glanced up at the clock: 9:17 p.m. The entire day had passed, and I had little recollection of it beyond lunch, a walk, and a deadline. I felt the world shrink around me.
I wanted more time to do the things I love
That fall, while out kayaking — a favorite activity that freelancing should give me regular opportunities to indulge in but rarely does — my husband, Floren, and I started talking seriously about retirement. In an industry ravaged by closures and layoffs, I was now toiling twice as hard on the unpaid work of pitching stories just to get the same number of assignments. The pay had dropped in journalism to the point that my side hustle, yoga instruction, had outpaced its hourly rate.
Floren and I kicked our planning into high gear. Inspired by a 2016 episode of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver on retirement planning, we’d already moved our retirement savings from mutual funds managed by financial advisors to index funds — and had comparable growth without forking over 2% a year in commissions and fees.
We took a deep dive into other helpful tools for saving, investing, and cutting corners on spending, like “The Simple Path to Wealth” by J. L. Collins, the Mr. Money Mustache blog, and the Choose Fi site and podcast. The latter yielded opportunities to connect and learn from, via Facebook groups, other people, some as young as 40, who have already achieved financial independence.
Knowing I will retire soon has made working more enjoyable
Knowing retirement is happening in a couple of months has made present career circumstances more bearable and has given me something to look forward to. I’ll spend at least a few years working 10 to 15 hours a week, most likely a mix of yoga classes, writing, and book editing and coaching for independent authors.
I anticipate filling the rest of my time with home projects, plus sketching, wildlife watching, biking, and improving my Spanish. Some days I’ll enjoy doing nothing at all.
While exciting, the thought of throwing in the job towel occasionally makes me nervous. What if the stock market nose-dives? What if Floren or I wind up with massive medical bills? If I don’t achieve all of my career goals before exiting, will I feel unfulfilled?
There’s no crystal-ball answer for the first three, but I know our financial planning is sound. I’ve also made peace with the fact that I might not reach every career goal I’ve set.
As a society, we talk a good game about working with purpose, traveling with purpose, and even exercising with purpose. For me, living with purpose is the ultimate expression of success.
