- Orrin Onken had always counted on his wife to organize his social life – until one day in 2024.
- He started to invite men to lunch to relieve the social isolation that accompanies retirement.
- Although some people refused him, he made friends and a greater feeling of courage.
There is stereotype that aging men do not develop social support systems as easily as women. I adapt the stereotype.
My wife has always been in charge of our social life. Although we both worked, she managed the interior, organized parties and supervised everything that is social. I did my best so as not to embarrass it or upset his plans.
I socialized with colleagues working as a lawyer, but not long after retirement, I realized that my work friends were just that. Once I stopped working, they stopped being there. If my wife preferred me, I imagined that I would die alone in a disorderly apartment.
In an unexplained energy sparkle in the spring of 2024, four years after my retirement, I decided to challenge the stereotype. I developed a plan to invite the old men I knew in my backyard and feed them.
I wanted to make friends but I was afraid to face the rejection. Although not all the people I invited did not show up for my lunches, the experience helped me face my insecurity and made me feel less alone.
To make friends meant risking rejection
The most difficult first step was to send the invitations. Each prolonged invitation posed the risk of rejection.
I was sure that my male knowledge lived lives so filled with virile stuff – hunting, fishing, car race and assistance from Troy walls – that they would have the time or the desire to linger on the cheese cake. The simple suggestion would reveal how an empty life I was heading for theirs.
Loneliness was slow pain that could possibly kill me, but it was less intimidating than the clear and immediate pain to be rejected.
I did not go to my male insecurity. With a date and an hour, I approached some of my favorite friends. To my surprise, most of them accepted, and those who refused because of other commitments seemed really happy to have been chosen.
A date has been set. We gathered – ancient men or soon – and socialized without fish to catch, golf balls to strike or a campfire to feed.
My guests were tight prey. In one day, the cancellations arrived – each an oblique bar to my self -esteem, making me paranoid that I would be the only one at lunch.
I could sympathize with the cancellators. Several times, I have accepted an invitation in the brilliance of inclusion, only to withdraw when it is faced with having to take a shower, travel and interact with people that I did not know.
As a retiree, I no longer needed to remain socially committed to advance professionally, and it has become easy to isolate myself and focus on my hobbies.
Temporarily, a friendship group has formed around my table
On the day of our first meeting, I was surprised by the number of non-presentations which gave me no notice. They explained later with “I just spaced” or “I put it badly to my schedule”. The attrition rate – cancellations plus non -presentations – was around 40%. My wife assured me that the attrition rate for women’s events was similar, and it was not because of my failures as a human being.
My guests caught seats and started the virile task of solving the problems of the world. Although we came from different economic classes and we have held different political opinions, the conversation was interesting and civilized.
I continued to organize lunches every two Wednesdays throughout the summer. Twelve invitations produced six to eight guests, and a central group has developed.
The men who were provisional and suspicious of my invitation first became jovials, exchanging jokes with my wife and walking on the rear deck as if the place was theirs.
Unfortunately, those who have become regulars already had reasonably strong social ties and were the guests I felt like the least.
I haven’t fell in love with any of the difficult cases. I would have made additional efforts to recruit some of the particularly isolated men I knew and that those who needed the social connection I offer were the least likely to accept it.
No one has discussed how lunches have affected their personal life, and we have not recognized that social isolation is a problem that men must overcome. But my new lunch partners returned every fortnight.
In the end, I learned more than making friends
When the autumn rains ended my lunches for the year, I realized that these events had changed me. Knowledge has become friends and I will continue to take on an outdoor lunches with them this year. The events helped me feel less isolated – I now had people I could call if I needed.
As a retired man, having lost social support for a job and slowly losing family members because of old age and death, I had forces that I did not think that I had to reach out and invite other men to my house. I think women see the need for a wider support group more clearly and better prepare for change when jobs and childcare services end.
Following my social efforts, I am more courageous. I was refused and ignored, but rejection has become easier to swallow over time. In addition, most of the time, my invitations encountered gratitude and acceptance.
Some people could not take the jump to take a chair on my bridge, but I think there was a part that wanted and understood that they should.
Do you have a story to share on retired loneliness? Contact the publisher, Charissa Cheong, at ccheong@businessinsider.com
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