- Orrin Onken was always relied on his wife to organize his social life – until one day in 2024.
- He began inviting men for lunch to facilitate the social isolation that comes with retirement.
- Although some people rejected him, he won friends and a greater sense of courage.
There is a stereotype that men in aging do not develop social support systems as easily as women. I adapt to the stereotype.
My wife has always been responsible for our social life. Although we both worked, she managed houses, regulated parties and overseeing all the social things. I did my best not to embarrass her or raise her plans.
I was associated with my colleagues while working as a lawyer, but not too much time in retirement, I realized that my work friends were just that. After ceasing to work, they stopped being around. If my wife predetermines me, I imagined I would only die in a shameless apartment.
In an unexplained explosion of energy in the spring of 2024, four years after retired, I decided to oppose the stereotype. I threw a plan to invite the elderly I knew in my backyard and fed lunch.
I wanted to make friends, but I was afraid to face the refusal. Although not all the people I invited turned to my lunches, the experience helped me cope with my insecurities and made me feel less alone.
Making friends meant to risk rejection
The first and most difficult step was to send invitations. Any prolonged invitation posed the risk of refusal.
I was sure that my men lived lives so filled with manly things – hunting, fishing, car racing and landing of Troy’s walls – that they would have neither time nor tendency to continue on cheeses. The simple suggestion would find out what life was empty in comparison with them.
Loneliness was a slow pain that could eventually kill me, but it was less intimidating than sharp, immediate rejection pain.
I did not give up on my masculine uncertainty. With a date and time, I approached some of my favorite boy friends. To my surprise, most of them accepted, and those who did not accept because of other commitments seemed really happy to have been chosen.
A date was set. We would gather-older men or soon-and we would be escorted without fish to catch, golf balls to hit, or a campfire to feed.
My guests were poor prey. Within a day, cancellations-which of my self-esteem, reached my self-esteem that I would be the only one at lunch.
I could join the cancers. Many times, I have received an invitation to the brilliance of inclusion, just to attract when I face the need to shower, travel and interact with people I didn’t know.
As a pensioner, I no longer had to stay committed social to progress professionally, and it became easy to isolate and focus on my hobbies.
Probably, a group of friendship was formed around my table
On the day of our first meeting, I was surprised by the number of non-appearances that did not inform me. They later explained with “I just split,” or “I put it on my wrong schedule”. Attraction rate-Plus non-representation-is about 40%. My wife assured me that the degree of attraction for women’s events was similar, and it was not because of my failures as a human being.
My guests grabbed the countries and began manly duty to solve the world’s problems. Although we came from different economic classes and kept different political views, the conversation was interesting and civilized.
I kept waiting for lunch every Wednesday all summer long. The twelve invitations produced six to eight guests, and an essential group was developed.
Men who were probative and suspicious of my invitation at first became loved ones, exchanging pleasure with my wife and wandering on the back deck as if they were theirs.
Unfortunately, those who became regular had strong social links already and were the guests I felt the least.
I have not hit any of the difficult occasions. I would make extra effort to recruit some of the particularly isolated men I knew and learned those who needed the social connection I offered were less likely to accept it.
No one discussed how lunch affected their personal lives, and we did not admit that social isolation is a problem that men should overcome. But my new lunch partners returned every two weeks.
After all, I learned more than just how to make friends
When the autumn rains ended my lunches for the year, I realized that these events had changed me. The acquaintances have become friends and I will continue to make outdoor lunches with them this year. The events helped me feel less isolated – now I had people who could call them if I needed it.
As a retired man, after losing social support of a job and slowly losing family members in old age and death, he had taken strength that I did not think I had to reach and invite other men to my home. I think women see more clearly the need for a wider support group and better prepare for change when they finish jobs and child care.
As a result of my social efforts, I am bolder. I am rejected and ignored, but the refusal became easier to swallow over time. Plus, most of the time, my invitations met with gratitude and acceptance.
Some people could not take the step to take a chair on my deck, but I believe there was some of them they wanted and realized they needed it.
Do you have a story to share about retirement loneliness? Contact the editor, Charissa Cheong, at Ccheong@businsinsider.com