Why am I so afraid to accept that it’s time for me to retire?

I have worked in higher education for more than 25 years. My plan was to retire at 60, but shortly before that I was offered a prestigious teaching position abroad. I now travel between there and the UK where my husband (recently retired) lives. We have been together for more than 20 years and he has always been very supportive.

There are so many things I love about what I do, but at 63 I am getting weary. The pressure to constantly be on top of my game is exhausting. I often feel as if I am not making the most of the opportunities I have because I am so tired.

The distance takes a toll. My husband and I are feeling very unsettled. Recently I have become acutely aware that neither of us know how much longer we have on this earth, and I wonder what I am doing on this hamster wheel rather than spending quality time with the person I love. Retiring both attracts and terrifies me. What will I do? Will I regret it?

My husband says he loves being retired, but I can also see he misses being part of something bigger. So much of my own personal identity is tied up with my profession. How would I define myself?

I also realise that I have neglected much of what gives me real joy: nurturing my creative self, my love of animals and the outdoors, having time to visit friends and family – just “being” rather than “striving”.

We don’t have children, so we don’t have that next obvious step [of looking after grandchildren]. We have no desire to continue living where we are in the UK and only moved there because of our previous jobs. We have the resources to both be retired, and for now, we have our health. We are very privileged. So why are we finding this next step so hard?

Because it is hard; you’re thinking of leaving something you know, which is very structured, you’re defined by and where you’re celebrated, for something which is a total unknown. It’s very hard to look forward to something you don’t know the shape of.

I consulted UKCP registered psychotherapist Meeri Rebane, who wondered if it was an all-or-nothing decision: “What is the form of retirement that you actually want? Is it possible to work part-time?”

We tend to think in terms of all or nothing when we’re exhausted, but the answer for you may be a halfway house. I realise that may not be possible – ie to work, say, three days instead of five – because your place of work is abroad. But it’s worth exploring. How do you cope during the long holidays that teaching affords? (I know you have marking!) Do you flourish or fall apart? This may give you a clue as to how it will be for you.

Rebane and I talked about how you might find retirement uncomfortable to begin with because it’s all new. But it’s also space to find out who you are now and what you want to do. If you’ve spent a lifetime in institutions (you called yourself “institutionalised” in your longer letter) this freedom will seem scary: no deadlines, no one to tell you what to do. But this space can be incredibly productive, too. Who knows what’s round the corner?

“Retiring,” said Rebane, “is not easy and can bring up anxieties and insecurities, especially when one’s identity has been tied up with work for so long. You may also experience some sadness and loss regarding your previous working life.”

I think if you look at your life now and what makes it meaningful you may see it’s about having structure, purpose, social interaction, being part of, as you say “something bigger”. Could you replicate that in retirement?

As for moving, only you can decide if you should move before you retire (so you still have something “known” in your life and don’t change too many things too quickly) or vice versa. When I make big life changes I like to change as little as possible in one go. Or would moving somewhere (maybe closer to work?) invigorate you to stay put for a while? Rebane suggested talking to professionals or retirees in the places you’re thinking of retiring to “ease some of that anxiety of the unknown”.

Remember your life has been a success so far because of you, not your job. And the good news is you get to take yourself with you into the next stage of life.

• Every week, Annalisa Barbieri addresses a personal problem sent in by a reader. If you would like advice from Annalisa, please send your problem to ask.annalisa@theguardian.com. Annalisa regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence. Submissions are subject to our terms and conditions.

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