When I originally conceived this post, I was going to title it “The life changes I made when I retired.”  However, like most things I write, the topic evolved.  The title then became “Changes that I have made as I have aged.” That was also inaccurate, as some of my life changes started in my 20s and have grown since then. The bottom line is that as an adult, I have slowly become who I am today.  Let me share some of those changes with you.

I no longer fear Imposter syndrome.

When I was younger, I received conflicting critiques about who I was and what my abilities were. On one hand, I was told I was stupid, lazy, and useless, while on the other hand, I was told that  I was bright, talented, and unique. I reveled in the later critique but didn’t believe it was real. I feared my complementers would discover I was a fraud.  

I recall being in college and breaking the curve on tests, thinking I was lucky. After doing this many times, I changed my belief to “I just study harder.”  Eventually, I came to understand that I grasped the material better than the average student, which was why I topped the curve.  Before you think I’m too grandiose, let me inform you that I have also recognized my weaknesses.  For instance, I cannot remember common facts, like a person’s name or a telephone number. Additionally, I have great difficulty putting together a simple children’s jigsaw puzzle. 

I no longer feel that I’m an imposter. Instead, I understand that I’m a person with some unique gifts and some significant weaknesses.  My goal has always been to exploit my strengths while doing everything possible to turn my weaknesses into strengths. I’m still a work in progress. 

I don’t care what people think about me.

When I moved into my house 30 years ago, I tried to be casually friendly towards my neighbors.  This effort went reasonably well, and I’m still on good terms with people I met at that time.  However, there was one situation where something went wrong.  A guy lived half a block from my house, and I had minimal contact with him.  We had kids the same age, and I occasionally saw him at the school bus stop or around the neighborhood. When I ran into him, I would greet him with a hello or raise my hand in a wave.  Initially, he responded, but then he stopped.  He would sometimes visibly scowl if he caught sight of me. If I was face-to-face with him, looked him directly in his eye, and said hello, he would look past me like I didn’t exist.  This situation upset and baffled me as I could not think of a reason for this change in his behavior. I felt that I must have done something wrong to create such a reaction, but I couldn’t even remember conversing with him, let alone saying something rude. My concerns eventually faded, and I got past his response (or lack thereof).  I never found out why this person went from a casual contact to someone who hated me. However, I no longer care.

In my private practice, I initially evaluated a middle-aged man who needed a new psychiatrist as his old one was retiring. This poor guy was taking a suitcase of ridiculous and repetitive meds.  His former doctor had him on multiple tranquilizers, sleeping pills, stimulants, and even opioid pain meds. I told the man frankly that my goal would be to get him off of 90% of the medications that he was taking because only then could I see what he needed.  He was furious with me and left my office, never to return.  I had to admit that I had a sense of relief when he left, as I knew that weaning such a patient would be as difficult for me as for him.  Six months later, I saw him on my schedule and thought, “Oh crap.”  I was sure that I was about to get some sort of dressing down because he was so angry when he left the first time. 

The man came in, and instead of reaming me, he apologized. He was seeing a new doctor who was happy to continue all of his meds, but over time, he realized that I was the first doctor to care enough about his care to risk losing him by telling him the truth.  Over time, I was able to get him off most of his meds and transition him to more appropriate ones.  He became a patient for life and continued to travel to my Illinois office after he moved to Ohio. 

There are times when I have accidentally offended someone. When things go badly in an encounter, and I am the cause, I want to make it right. However, long ago, I realized there would be people who would like me and people who wouldn’t.  Some who don’t want to be my friend will have a valid reason; others won’t. I try to be kind and respectful to everyone, but if that is not enough…so be it. I want to concentrate my energy on those who want to share time with me.  For the others, I wish them a happy life, but otherwise, I simply don’t care.

I no longer try to live up to other people’s expectations of me.

Some people think they know how I should behave, what I should do, and how I should live my life.  Sometimes, these comments are out of genuine caring and could be considered complements.  “You should write a book on that topic,” or “You should practice again; we need good psychiatrists.”  At other times, I have been the target of someone’s manipulation, like when a senior medical student wanted me, as a freshman medical student, to take her place on a horrible committee that involved a ton of work and long twice-monthly meetings. I could give dozens of other examples, but they all involve “shoulds.”  You should do this, or you shouldn’t do that.  Long ago, I realized it was OK to listen to other’s perspectives, but I knew myself better than they knew me.  I live according to my expectations, not someone else’s.

I no longer buy into societal norms.

We are constantly being pressured to fit in.  As a doctor, society tried to determine how big my house should be, what kind of car I should drive, and what friends I should associate with. When I turned 50, I bought a “doctor’s car,” a Mercedes.  I felt pretty cool and accomplished for about a month, and then it dawned on me that the Mercedes was just a box on wheels. After a time, it became a burden due to its poor construction and excessive repair costs.  I traded it in for a Honda; a happy day. I no longer need to keep up with the Joneses or the Dr. Joneses. I just want to live my life and be myself. 

I no longer think I’m unworthy if I’m average at something.

Growing up, I received praise and validation through my academic abilities. This reinforcement led to a pattern of behavior in which I felt that I had to prove my worth by consistently exceeding expectations. That went well beyond schooling.  I thought I had to be engaging, intelligent, and funny in social situations. It was my task to make sure that no one was uncomfortable. It was my job to come up with a topic that interested the person I was talking to, not a subject I had an interest in.  In my marriage, I felt I had to be the ultimate provider, the man with the plan, who was both in charge yet compassionate and tender, alternating roles as required. I felt I had to prove my worth beyond being a good doctor in my business. For example, I taught myself web design to save the clinic money by designing, building, and uploading a complicated corporate website instead of having the clinic contract a professional. 

These characteristics are part of me, but the operative definer is “part.”  I don’t always want to be the most competent person in the room, the most engaging, and the most thoughtful.  Sometimes, I want to be me.  Over time, I have realized I have worth, as all humans do.  It is OK for me to allow others to take the lead and be intelligent, thoughtful, and caring. My genuine self is that of a nurturer, but I sometimes need to be nurtured.  I am happy to care for the people I love, but I also want to be loved. I can learn new things to help others, but at times, I am the person who needs help. 

Sometimes, it feels good just to be good enough.  

I no longer feel a need to control others.

When I care about someone, I want to protect them and keep them safe. When my kids were young, imparting my “knowledge” to them was possible.  However, they are now adults and have had the benefits of an excellent education, a ton of love and support, and wisdom from both parents. If they ask my opinion, I will happily give it to them.  If I see a major disaster on the horizon, I may offer an unsolicited opinion. However, in most cases, I feel my role is to be a supportive listener.  This stance goes beyond my kids but requires continuing effort on my part.  I’m better at letting go, but I still want to shield those I love from hurt and trauma.  I need to remind myself that adults have the right to self-determination. 

I no longer have to be everyone’s friend.

There was a time when someone asked me to be my friend, and I would automatically say yes. Many times, these were individuals who recognized that I was a caretaker.  The relationship would consist of them using me in one way or another.  When I needed their help or support, they would be “too busy.” I no longer want such people in my life.  I want mutually beneficial relationships with others, and I would much rather have a small circle of true friends than a massive group of casual friends. 

I don’t need to accomplish everything I could have achieved.

I have many ideas and can connect seemingly unrelated pieces of information. In the 1970s, I worked with a team at the U of C, employing a new tool called monoclonal antibodies. We were using these antibodies as a research probe to study Multiple Sclerosis, but it was abundantly clear that they could also be used for clinical medical purposes, targeted cancer treatment being one of them. In medical school, I knew I could become a research doc and advance that (and other) ideas. However, I understood that I wasn’t happy as a researcher and wanted to pursue a clinical path; I abandoned the idea. 

I started an multi-media company to educate lay people. My first education DVD received good reviews, but it took me hundreds of hours to create and produce.  Although I had ideas for other DVDs, I wasn’t willing to spend every waking hour developing them. 

The bottom line is that life involves balance.  I couldn’t do it all if I wanted to have a full life.  I wanted time to explore hobbies, have time for my wife, children, and friends, and to learn new things.  This meant that I couldn’t always accomplish the big stuff. Having a balanced life turned out to be the right decision for me. 

I have less need for “stuff.”

When I was younger, I saw the road to happiness and my credit card joined at the hip. I felt envy if I visited someone who had a larger house.  “Someday, I will have that too.”  The same could be said of anything that seemed better than what I had. Thank goodness that envy ended decades ago.  

At that time, I went from a position of envy to a place of gratitude. There will always be someone who has something “better” than me, but there will always be someone worse off, too.  Where do I find my happiness?  The other day, I walked in a beautiful forest preserve just minutes from home.  I brought a nice camera and took random photos of interesting subjects. At home, I made dinner for my family and a friend. We ate and talked and ate some more. It was a lovely day. 

I am so grateful to have good people in my life, that I’m relatively healthy, that I enjoy being creative and learning new things, and that I have so much beauty at my doorstep. There are so many things to be grateful for!

I value these things so much more than stuff. 

I don’t worry about the clothes that I’m wearing.

I’m a basic guy.  As a practicing doctor, I had to dress the part, and my closet was jammed with dress shirts and such.  Recently, I decided to eliminate most of those shirts and almost all of my suits.  I only wore suits when I had to, but I discovered that I had 8 of them!   I tossed the worn clothes and gave away the nice shirts and suits.

My retirement wardrobe is effortless; I mostly wear jeans with a SmartWool tee or a polo shirt.  I love the ease of choosing “one item from column A and one from column B,” and I’m dressed.  At other times I’ll wear something fun.  Why? Because I can wear what I want when I want to wear it.  

I no longer need to be perfect.

In the past, I felt that I needed to be perfect and that I had to have an encyclopedic knowledge of any topic. I would blame myself if I didn’t know something, even when I could not know it. This caused me stress.

I still try to do a good job. However, perfection is not possible.  It is a relief to acknowledge that sometimes good is good enough. 

I have no problem saying “No.”

In the distant past, I felt that if someone asked me to do something, I would have to say “OK.”

People ask me to do things all the time. I will often say yes, and it feels great to help someone. However, other times, someone wants me to do something I don’t want to do. Those requests can be minor or sometimes highly time-consuming. Long ago, I learned that a simple “No” sans any explanation was the way to go. One minute of discomfort can, at times, save months of agony.

I don’t always have to be productive.

When I worked 60+ hours a week, my free time was minimal.  I remember sitting at my desk paying the household bills and feeling guilty that I wasn’t raking the leaves simultaneously.  My limited time and excessive demands created an environment where I thought I had to produce something of value 24/7.  That was not a healthy place to be. 

In retirement, I have found the true joy of being while still doing things. Yesterday, I cleaned out the clothes occupying one foot of my closet, tossed out one large bag of junk from my basement, wrote part of this post, and helped my sister with some computer issues. However, that left time to do many other things, ranging from having coffee with a friend to studying an esoteric and useless topic. Oh, and I also took a nap-and didn’t feel a bit of guilt.

I don’t have a fear of the future.

How many times have I worried about something that never happened?  How many times have terrible things happened without me seeing them approaching? The reality is that worry has never been a strategy for success.  If I worry about something, I tell myself: Accept what I cannot change, change what I can, and know the difference between the two (paraphrased AA serenity prayer).  Life happens.  Good things happen.  Bad things happen.  I aim to live in the half-full glass zone, not the half-empty one.  For every bad thing that has happened to me, I have had a dozen good things happen.  Every morning brings a new day.  My goal is to make the most of that day. 

I no longer ignore the small things.

Life is not about a trip to Europe or the purchase of a new home. Those things are lovely but very episodic. Life is about the small stuff: drinking a good cup of coffee, spending time with a friend, having dinner and conversation with my family, going on a walk while intentionally observing all of the beauty around me, and learning something new, even if it has no practical application. There is so much joy in the small things. Why do people ignore these gifts? Not me. 

I’m no longer hard on myself.

I have already said that I’m not perfect.  That reality permeates every aspect of my life.  However, I no longer beat myself up when I make a mistake.  I try to learn from it and make it right if appropriate.  I’m not perfect, but I’m good enough.

I no longer place unreasonable expectations on my family and friends.

We all want what we want.  However, I try to view each close relationship as a gift.  I want to have good people in my life who I love and who love me.  However, they are individuals and have their own values and needs, which may differ from mine.  I make a solid effort to accept them for who they are.  However, I intentionally choose considerate people to be in my life.  I try to be the same to them, and although we are not perfect bookends, we appreciate and value our connections.

Letting go of the above has made me a better and happier person.  Each day is a gift to be celebrated and not squandered.

Peace 

Mike