I’m 39, and my retirement plan is haphazard, chaotic, and borderline nonexistent. I feel a lot of shame around this fact because I should know better.
My first job out of college was at PBS, where I opened a TIAA retirement account at 22. Somewhere in the intervening 18 years, the retirement accounts at PBS switched from TIAA to Fidelity. I now get notifications from both, and it’s confusing.
After PBS, I worked for a public relations agency that most certainly had a 401(k) plan, and I absolutely didn’t sign up for it. After that, I worked at Redbox, where I again didn’t enroll in a retirement plan.
I’ve had a twisty-turny career path, including a pandemic-era six-year stint as a startup founder developing a new tech product for book lovers. During that time, I worried about money every day, so I wasn’t saving anything for retirement.
So that leaves me with a string of sparse, underfunded retirement accounts, regrets about the past, and worries about the future. I’m deep in the middle of what I call “retirement planning paralysis.”
Retirement wasn’t on my radar for the bulk of my career
I’ve shied away from retirement planning throughout my career for the same reason I didn’t freeze my eggs or plan for any aspect of the future: Today is the only day that is promised.
I’ve always tried to live in the present because it feels presumptuous to plan the future. And the future always felt very far away, so it was easy to put planning off — especially in my 20s and 30s.
Now, with 40 looming, I still feel uncertain about the future, but I also see my past avoidant behaviors as ones riddled with excuses and justifications. I suddenly realized: Just because I don’t know how things will turn out doesn’t mean I can’t plan for future me.
I’ve finally started saving for retirement, but still paralyzed
Today, I’m working full time at a B2B PR agency, and I’m finally maxing out my 401(k). I’ve now doubled my total retirement savings from my previous 15+ years of corporate employment.
But I still have at least two, maybe three, different retirement accounts. I know I should combine them all, but I don’t know where to start or the best way to go about that.
I know that 401(k)s can be rolled over or rolled up, so I have to figure out how to get this ball rolling, but I’m still struggling to find the motivation. It feels like total planning paralysis. This is my next big hurdle.
How do I feel about my future?
Optimistically, I would love to be in my late 60s and retired. I want to travel, hike, and volunteer. I like to imagine that I’ll relax by reading books in my little cozy nook of a cabin in the hills of a forest overlooking a lake.
But more realistically, I see myself working into my 70s, not by choice but necessity — joining the growing ranks of older Americans who can’t afford to stop. My current juncture makes me think of a famous Joni Mitchell line: “It’s got me hoping for the future and worrying about the past.”
I do regret some of my past choices, but I’m addressing them now. Writing this essay is my first step out of paralysis. I’m also scheduling a meeting with a financial advisor next week.
Lastly, I’m telling my friends about my retirement anxiety. I’m learning that admitting I’m overwhelmed doesn’t make me a failure; it makes me honest. And being honest is a good first step.
