What Trauma Looks Like in My Life After Retirement

Healing from trauma has always felt like a full-time job—exhausting, confusing, and often lonely. For most of my life, I never truly felt good enough. I didn’t trust others. I became hyper-independent, constantly over functioning, people-pleasing, chasing perfection, and staying emotionally distant just to feel safe.

In my early 20s, I started therapy and learned a few helpful skills. I took antidepressants and anxiety medications for years. I thought I was coping well. But I didn’t yet realize that what I was dealing with wasn’t just anxiety or depression—it was trauma. And not just any trauma, but complex trauma rooted in early attachment wounds. So, although therapy helped me function day-to-day, I was still operating in survival mode without even realizing it.

After working my entire career in New York State government, I was fortunate to retire relatively young. Retirement gave me the rare gift of time—time to slow down, reflect, and finally start digging into deeper healing.

During my first year of retirement, I gave myself permission to rest. Just breathe. Then I started volunteering as an advocate for children in foster care. It’s rewarding, though often frustrating—so many systemic issues remain out of my control. Still, I can offer love and advocacy to kids who remind me of my younger self. And while I can’t rewrite my past, I can help someone else begin to heal theirs. That’s healing, too.

There’s an overwhelming amount of information out there on trauma and attachment. It’s easy to get lost in it. I’ve learned to focus by choosing one area that’s showing up in my life—something I feel stuck in or curious about. It’s hard to choose just one, honestly. Trauma affects so many parts of me.

The language experts use can also be confusing. Different voices, different terms for the same thing—it’s a lot. So, I go with what feels like a fit. I search YouTube for speakers whose voices and presentation styles I connect with. If a video has an outline and the speaker seems credible, I give it a listen. If it doesn’t resonate, I move on. If it does, I take notes. I’ll save videos I don’t finish and come back later. With books, I look at reviews, summaries, or go by recommendations.

Having time to focus on healing is a blessing I don’t take for granted. Still, it can feel heavy sometimes—like all I do is focus on trauma. I also don’t get as much practice using the new skills I’m learning because I’m not around people like I was when I worked. I’ve grown comfortable being alone, but that comfort can become isolation. I don’t talk to people as often anymore, and sometimes I feel stagnant. Without the external structure of work or obligations, motivation can be a challenge.

But I keep going. One video. One journal entry. One act of self-kindness at a time. Healing isn’t linear. It’s layered. And even when it feels slow, it’s still happening.

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If you’re healing from trauma in retirement—or any stage of life—you’re not alone. What has helped you most on your journey? I’d love to hear your reflections in the comments below. 💬