Finding new footing
When I retired from GE, I had a plan, and I was genuinely excited to leave. Still, I’ll admit that first month was a little disorienting. One day, everyone needed me., and the next, no one did. But because I had taken the time to map out my next steps, I never once regretted the decision. I gave myself a true break. I traveled, took some deep breaths, and embraced the quiet. But pretty quickly, I was ready to reengage—with learning, with community, and especially with creativity.
In the classroom and on the stage
One of the first things I did was enroll in a graduate program in American Studies. I wanted to keep my mind active and dig into topics I never had time to explore during my career. It’s been a rewarding experience—one that reminds me I’m still growing.
At the same time, I reconnected with my lifelong love: the theater. I was a theater major in college and spent a few years pursuing that as a career before pivoting to the corporate world. In this new season, I have made a commitment to myself to reengage with this long-held passion. In the last year alone, I performed in several local productions, including Honeymoon in Vegas, Smoke on the Mountain, and Little Women: The Musical. I also designed and built most of my own costumes—another creative outlet I love.
Singing and music have always been a big part of who I am, and producing my own cabaret was at the top of my retirement bucket list. I put one together for my retirement party and had so much fun that I pitched a recurring series to a local venue. I now produce four themed cabarets a year. I curate the music, hire the talent, and perform. It’s pure joy.
Purposeful time
I’ve become much more present for my family—my kids, my brothers, and their families. I say yes more often. I also serve as worship chair at my church and have developed a social circle through both church and the theater. I’ve found ways to show up for others and be part of something meaningful, which matters deeply to me.
One thing that’s surprised me is how fast the days fly by. I can get completely lost in something I love—designing, rehearsing, researching—and suddenly it’s four hours later. That’s a real gift I didn’t know I’d find.
Centering self and health
I went through the MyNextSeason process before I retired, and I took the workbook seriously. I’ve gone back to it several times—it helped me center on what I actually
wanted to do and gave me confidence when things felt uncertain. I still approach life with the same intensity I had in my career. I overcommit. I take things seriously. But I’m getting better at saying no and giving myself more space.
One big area of focus now is health—something I didn’t plan well enough for, and I’m learning just how critical it is. Menopause brought some real, unexpected physical
challenges for me. So, I’m actively clearing space to make my health a priority and learning to treat it as essential.
Owning my identity
I know what I don’t want to do. I’m not interested in applying my HR or leadership skills to address someone else’s organizational needs right now. People often want to take advantage of my HR expertise, but I’ve gotten unapologetic about saying, “That’s not for me.” Even though I loved my career and I am so grateful for the experience, my next season is about something different.
Instead, I’m focusing on my identity as an artist and a performer. I have no grand aspirations of starring on Broadway. I am completely happy to pursue this passion on a
smaller stage—one that fits me and my life. At this point, I’m usually the oldest person in the cast, but I bring a depth of life experience to the stage that I didn’t have in my twenties. I also get to mentor younger actors, which has been incredibly fulfilling, and I learn from them every day, too.
I’m proud of what I’ve built. I’ve done the things I said I would. I’ve made space for learning, performance, and connection. I’ve been more present for the people who matter. I’ve embraced the constant evolution this chapter brings. Even when I don’t know what the next step is, I have clarity about what it is not, and I know it is entirely mine to shape.
My advice
Have a plan, but know it will change. Be honest about whose expectations you’re trying to meet. And most importantly, listen to yourself. Pay attention to what brings you joy. That’s where your next season begins.