All this talk lately about Trump and Carney squaring off has made me reflect on matters closer to home. My living room has never quite reached the level of a televised leaders’ debate, but retirement has a way of turning minor domestic disagreements into full parliamentary sessions. And unlike politicians, you can’t call a recess and fly to Florida.
For years, we’ve been sold a lovely picture of retirement. The alarm clock disappears. The kids have finally stopped treating your house like a storage locker. There are leisurely breakfasts, travel, golf, grandchildren, and coffee on the patio on a Tuesday morning simply because you can. And there is your spouse. Every. Single. Day.
For many couples, this is wonderful. Even in the happiest relationships, though, somewhere around the third consecutive Tuesday morning together, a thought may quietly surface: Have you always chewed like that?
We spend years trying to figure out whether we have enough money to retire. We calculate pensions, RRSPs, CPP, home equity, and how long our savings might last. We consult financial planners and make budgets. Some of us even build colour-coded spreadsheets, which I think is taking things a little far (just saying). Far fewer couples spend time figuring out how they will retire together, and that’s a different calculation altogether.
Two Retirement Plans before One
During our working years, most couples have something that retirement quietly removes: separation. You go to work. I go to work. You have your colleagues, routines, frustrations, and responsibilities, and I have mine. We leave each other in the morning, collect a day’s worth of stories, and come home with something to talk about. Retirement can fold two fairly independent lives into the same house and the same calendar, usually by the first Monday.
Research backs this up. A German study of 2,117 couples, drawing on more than 30 years of national survey data, found that on average both partners grew more satisfied with life around retirement. The changes were also highly correlated within couples, so when one partner’s satisfaction slipped, the other’s tended to slip right along with it (Weber et al., 2021). Your retirement becomes my retirement, whether I applied for the position or not.
Then come the expectations. One person has been dreaming of travelling for 20 years. The other would happily never set foot in an airport again. One wants to move, and one wants to stay. One wants to golf four days a week. The other thought retirement meant finally doing things together. One wants to help the kids financially. The other believes the kids are 43 and it may be time they gave adulthood a whirl.
Even the timing can cause friction. One of you retires in June, the other has three years left before the pension kicks in, and suddenly someone is home all day reorganizing the spice drawer. Research on how couples make retirement decisions suggests that the way the call gets made, and whether both people feel they had a say, shapes how satisfied they are with retirement afterward (Szinovacz & Davey, 2005). The relationship you bring into retirement also comes along for the ride. Old patterns of closeness and conflict travel with you like carry-on luggage, and retirement simply changes the scenery around them (Davey & Szinovacz, 2004).
That makes me wonder whether every couple needs two retirement plans before they have one. What does your retirement look like? What does mine look like? Where do they overlap? Those questions may matter more than whether we can afford the Viking cruise.
And Then There’s Money
Of course there is. Money has always had an extraordinary ability to walk into a perfectly pleasant conversation and leave with a baseball bat. In retirement it gets even more emotionally charged, because our financial psychology shifts. During our working years, another paycheque is always coming. In retirement, many of us start drawing down assets we spent decades building, which can feel completely sensible to one spouse and mildly terrifying to the other.
This is where FORO, Fear of Running Out, can pull up a chair at breakfast. One partner sees $800,000 as security. The other sees the same $800,000 as a number that can only get smaller. Suddenly a $12,000 trip to Italy is carrying a lot of luggage: safety, control, mortality, and whether 93-year-old you might someday need that money.
Then health can change the equation again. A spouse gets sick. Mobility changes. One person becomes a caregiver, and independence starts to slip away. Retirement plans that once looked beautifully aligned suddenly don’t, and that is a lot of change for any relationship to absorb.
Apparently, Fighting Isn’t Necessarily Bad
Three very different thinkers have helped me rethink the whole subject: an ancient Chinese general, a modern conflict facilitator, and a psychologist with a lab full of arguing couples.
Sun Tzu’s The Art of War is about military strategy, yet one of its most enduring ideas travels surprisingly well into marriage: understand the situation, understand the other person, and don’t waste resources on battles that don’t need to be fought.
Priya Parker comes at conflict from almost the opposite direction in her new book, The Art of Fighting (2026). Her work explores how conflict can strengthen relationships when people engage with it well. She calls this idea “healthy heat.” Some difficult conversations need enough heat to burn through to what actually matters.
Then there is psychologist John Gottman, who studied couples over time and found something I love: happy couples don’t all fight the same way (Gottman, 1993). His research identified three stable types. Validators calmly talk their disagreements through. Avoiders would much prefer to change the subject. Volatile couples argue loudly and passionately and keep their marriages intact anyway. The couples headed for trouble were the hostile ones, along with the ones who had quietly checked out.
So you and I don’t have to argue like the nice couple down the street. They look exhausted and boring, to be frank. What seems to matter is whether we can disagree and still hold on to respect, affection, and the sense that we are on the same side. That calls for something to sit beside the retirement financial plan.
The Retirement Rules of Engagement
1. Figure out what you’re really fighting about. Before digging in your heels, ask why this matters so much to each of you. The argument about selling the house may really be about losing independence. A fight over spending can be tangled up with FORO. Too much golf might be about purpose for one person and loneliness for the other. And the argument about money may have very little to do with the actual numbers. Once the real issue is on the table, at least you’re having the right argument.
2. Choose your battles. Sun Tzu would make an excellent retirement consultant. Some things matter enormously, and others really don’t. If your spouse has loaded the dishwasher incorrectly for 37 years and everyone is still alive, victory may no longer be strategically important.
3. Keep the heat healthy. Disagreement has a place in a strong relationship. Parker’s idea of healthy heat gives us permission to have uncomfortable conversations without treating the discomfort as proof that the relationship is in trouble. Say the difficult thing. Ask the awkward question. Then stay curious about the answer.
4. Remember who is sitting across from you. This is the person you chose to build a life with. Opposing counsel bills by the hour. Gottman’s research is especially useful here, because hostility and emotional disengagement are the real warning signs. Anger passes. Contempt has a nasty habit of moving into the spare room.
5. Build some mine, yours, and ours. Two people don’t need to become one organism to have a good retirement. Separate interests, friendships, and activities give each partner purpose and independence, plus fresh material for dinner conversation. Then build the shared things on purpose too: travel, grandchildren, exercise, volunteering, cottage time, date nights, or whatever makes retirement feel like ours. A little absence can still make the heart grow fonder.
6. Know when you’re stuck. If you keep having the same argument, if conversations regularly turn hostile or contemptuous, or if one of you has simply stopped engaging, outside help may be worth it. A couples therapist can untangle relationship patterns. A financial planner can put real numbers around money fears. A retirement coach can help when identity and purpose are causing friction. Sometimes the most useful person at the kitchen table is the third one.
What About Grey Divorce?
Grey divorce is worth a few minutes here, because ending a marriage later in life is especially hard to recover from financially, and it ripples through the whole family, right down to the grandchildren who now spend Christmas in two places.
The Canadian story, however, is less dramatic than the headlines suggest, partly because so many of those headlines are American. In the United States, adults 50 and older made up 8% of all divorces in 1990 and nearly 40% in the latest figures, and their divorce rate doubled between 1990 and 2010 before levelling off (Westrick-Payne & Brown, 2024). Canada never had that boom. Statistics Canada reports that the divorce rate among Canadians aged 50 and older rose 26% between 1991 and 2006, from 4.2 to 5.3 divorces per 1,000 married people, and has since remained relatively stable (Statistics Canada, 2022). Grey divorce remains considerably less common here than divorce among younger adults, so if you’ve read that it has doubled, you were reading about Americans.
Still, divorce at 65 is financially different from divorce at 35. There are fewer working years to rebuild. One household becomes two. Housing, retirement income, pensions, estate plans, and family relationships can all take a hit, and women tend to feel it most. A Statistics Canada study that tracked Canadians from their mid-50s into their 70s found that divorced women kept about 70% of their family income, compared with about 87% for women who stayed married (Mehdi, 2023). The study concluded that divorce lowers living standards in retirement more than the death of a spouse does.
Till Death Do Us Part Is Longer Than It Used to Be
A couple retiring in their 60s could easily have another 20 or 30 years together. That’s an extraordinary gift. It’s also a very long time to argue over the thermostat. Our health will change, our finances may shift, and our interests will wander off in directions neither of us saw coming. The people we were when we walked away from our careers won’t necessarily be the people we are at 75, 80, or 90, so our relationships need room to grow with us.
So pick the battles worth fighting, bring a little healthy heat to the ones that matter, and concede the rest, especially the dishwasher. Thirty years of retirement works out to more than 1,500 Tuesdays together. It would be a shame to spend them arguing about the forks.
Don’t retire. ReWire.
Sue
P.S. Retiring solo? Don’t get too comfortable. Many of the same issues show up with adult children, friends, and family, along with everyone’s sudden assumption that you now have all kinds of free time. I’ll tackle that one in two weeks.
My Book is Available for Order: I hope you will consider ordering a copy of Your Retirement Reset for yourself, a friend, or someone you love. Published by ECW Press and is available through Indigo or Amazon and McNally Robinson. If you like supporting Canadian booksellers, check with your local independent bookstore too. Most can order it.