I’m Almost 50 And Will Work Forever: Am I Afraid of Developing Dementia?

I’m fully embracing act two — the second half — of my life

I’m 48 years old. And — long story short — I have come to several conclusions about the second act of my life:

• I don’t want to work full-time.
• I want to work less now so I can work less longer.
• I have no choice other than to move to another country, because life in America is too expensive and will only get more expensive going forward.

So, my partner and I have picked Spain. We hope to begin the visa process by the end of next year. I’ll continue to work as a self-employed writer. My partner will transition into a fresh (and exciting!) line of work she hopes to do into relative old age.

I use the term relative old age, because:

I don’t think of myself as old. That said, I am approaching 50.

I often feel like a child in a near 50-year old’s body. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and, say, holy shit, I can’t believe I’m almost 50. Add to that the fact that I have a daughter who will turn 20 this year and it all almost feels surreal.

While I don’t consider myself old, relatively speaking I am.

Relative to my daughter. Relative to how old I was at age 30, 40 and even 45. Relative to lots of things.

I make this distinction because, on one hand, age is but a number and I don’t consider myself old. This is key to staying excited and engaged and ensuring act two of your life is full of new experiences, big plans and fun adventures.

Make no mistake, I’m thrilled to be in the position I’m in.

I could fret over not buying a house and doing things differently when I was 25 or 35, but what’s the point?

I don’t want to stay in the United States anyway. I prefer the lifestyle and prevailing culture in Spain.

I’d rather be making and executing exciting plans for the aforementioned act two of my life than sitting in my three-car garage asking is this all there is?

I view act two — optimistically maybe — as the second half of my life.

In a Medium article about euthanasia, almost 74-year old Brendareeves said something that resonates with me big time:

Forgive me if you find this topic depressing. I really don’t dwell on these things. I don’t sit around thinking about dying every day. I live my life as if I have a future.

I highlighted that last sentence. Because it helps explain why — no — I don’t worry about developing dementia or any sort of cognitive decline.

This is, by far, the #1 question readers ask me when I discuss my plans for the future.

What if you can’t work when you’re older?

What if?

What if I decided to take that corporate gig in my twenties and grind hard, living the American dream, for the last 25 years?

What if those years — which would still be in progress at age 48 — degraded my physical and mental health due to overwork?

What if I made it to 55, 60 or 65 and the supposed holy grail of traditional retirement only to stress about outliving my money without the capacity or inclination to work anymore?

What if I had no choice but to work, yet found it impossible to restart a career, secure part-time employment or succeed at some form of self-employment?

I can what if this thing into a 300-minute article.

But here’s the deal. There’s nothing wrong with taking the traditional path. If that’s the risk you prefer and are willing to take. No matter the choices you make for today or the future, you’re taking a risk.

It’s all about knowing your personal risk profile. Your aversion to risk. To different types of risk.

The thought of servicing a 30-year mortgage during the prime of my life always scared the heck out of me. So I didn’t do it. You can call that taking a risk.

Surveying my landscape today, there’s no way I can afford to enter or service a 30-year mortgage in America today. Even if I could, I’m not taking the darn thing with me to 78 years of age. I don’t call that a risk. I call it insanity.

So I made the decision to shoot for the lifestyle I desire in a place where I think I can afford to own a home with a more than manageable monthly payment and overall considerably lower cost of living. Almost immediately after my partner and I make the move, we’ll be able to work less than we do today (which isn’t all that much) amid an enhanced quality of life.

With much less risk. Or risk we’re better able to stomach. Not no risk. Just the right amount of risk.

These plans seem absolutely crazy to others.

Moving to a different country. Assimilating into a new culture. For me, learning a new language (my girlfriend won’t face that challenge).

Too uncertain. Too risky.

As I see it, it’s too much of a risk to stay in Los Angeles. To, for that matter, stay in America.

Yes, I might develop cognitive decline. Hopefully it won’t happen as fast as my rapidly deteriorating eyesight! I’ll do everything I think I can do — within reason — to guard against that or any other issue that might interrupt the anticipated flow of the second half of my life.

But, by and large, these are risks we all face, regardless of how we choose to work and where we choose to live.

As Brenda said, I consider this stuff, but I don’t dwell on it.

I live my life as if I have a future. Because I do. Even if it’s not risk-free. (Knock on wood).

If you’d like to know more about the journey I’m on, follow me on Medium.

You can also subscribe to my Never Retire: Living The Semi-Retired Life newsletter where I chronicle my big decisions on lifestyle, housing and cost of living, which includes moving to Spain sooner rather than later.