Boomers, let’s stop lying: These 7 activities we pretend to love are actually miserable

You know what’s exhausting? Pretending to love things everyone expects you to love.

After spending my entire career in the insurance business, I thought retirement would mean freedom to do what I actually enjoyed. Instead, I found myself swept up in what I now call “mandatory fun”—that peculiar pressure to adopt the right hobbies, join the right clubs, and enthusiastically post about activities that prove I’m aging successfully.

The truth? Half of us are miserable doing the things we’re told we should be grateful to finally have time for.

So let’s drop the act for a moment. Here are seven “classic” retirement activities that many of us secretly can’t stand, no matter how many smiling photos we post on Facebook.

1) Golf—the four-hour exercise in frustration

Let’s start with the big one.

Golf has somehow become the mandatory retirement sport for men my age, as if your entire career success can only be validated by spending $75 to hack your way around 18 holes while convincing yourself you’re having fun.

I tried it. My buddy Frank convinced me it would be “relaxing.” Four hours later, I’d lost six balls, my lower back was screaming, and I was no closer to understanding why missing a tiny hole from three feet away merited such enthusiasm.

The worst part? The social pressure to keep playing. “Did you get out this week?” they ask at every gathering, and admitting you’d rather spend Sunday morning with Lottie in the park somehow makes you the odd one out.

According to research from the National Golf Foundation, retirement-age golfers play almost twice as many rounds annually as other adults. But how many of us actually enjoy it versus feel obligated to participate?

2) Cruises—floating hotels with nowhere to escape

“You should take a cruise!” they said. “It’s so relaxing!” they said.

What they didn’t mention was the part where you’re trapped on a boat with 3,000 other people, eating at assigned times, participating in organized fun, and paying $15 for a glass of wine.

My wife and I tried one to the Caribbean. Within two days, we’d run out of things to do except eat, and the “intimate” dining experience meant making small talk with strangers we had nothing in common with while our food got cold.

The ship was beautiful, sure. But so is staying home without motion sickness.

The real issue isn’t cruises themselves—plenty of people genuinely love them. According to AARP research, cruises remain one of the most popular vacation choices for our generation. But that popularity often stems from social expectation rather than genuine desire.

3) Group travel tours—forced socializing on someone else’s schedule

“Join us for our Grand Tour of Europe!” the brochure promised. “Make lifelong friends!”

What it actually meant: wake up at 6 AM to board a bus full of strangers, spend exactly 47 minutes at each historic site, and eat dinner at tourist-trap restaurants while someone named Gary complains about the exchange rate.

I’m not antisocial. I enjoy meeting people. But there’s something soul-crushing about being herded through the world’s great cities on someone else’s timeline, with no option to skip the museum you don’t care about or spend an extra hour at the café you loved.

We’re told these tours are perfect for retirees because everything’s handled for us. But when did we become incapable of reading a map or booking our own hotels?

Sometimes the best travel is the kind where you can change your mind, sleep late, or spend an entire afternoon doing absolutely nothing.

4) RV adventures—because arguing about septic hookups is everyone’s dream

The RV lifestyle gets romanticized to death in retirement circles. Freedom! Adventure! The open road!

Reality check: you’ve spent thousands on a vehicle that gets eight miles per gallon so you can park in Walmart lots and argue with your spouse about waste tank capacity.

A couple we know sold their house and bought a massive RV, convinced it would be their ticket to endless adventure. Six months later, they’d spent more time Googling “RV repair near me” than actually enjoying the scenery.

They’re still doing it, still posting sunny photos from national parks. But in private? They admitted it’s cramped, expensive, and exhausting. They just can’t admit it publicly because they burned their bridges to get there.

Not everyone’s experience, I’m sure. But enough people are quietly miserable in their rolling homes that we should probably stop acting like it’s the only way to see America.

5) Book clubs—or pretending you read the book

Book clubs sound intellectual and engaging—a chance to discuss literature, exchange ideas, connect over shared interests.

In practice? You skim the last three chapters the night before, show up to hear Janet dominate the conversation with her English degree from 1972, and leave wondering why you didn’t just read what you actually wanted.

I joined one thinking it would get me back into reading regularly. It did the opposite. Suddenly books became homework, complete with deadlines and social pressure to have opinions about symbolism I definitely didn’t notice.

Three months in, I realized I was spending more time stressing about book club than enjoying books.

Now I read what I want, when I want, and if I feel like discussing it, I talk to my wife or the folks at the literacy center where I volunteer. No pressure, no performance, just reading.

6) Volunteer work done out of guilt, not passion

Before you come at me—volunteering is wonderful. I genuinely love my time at the literacy center. It feels meaningful and makes a real difference.

But there’s a difference between volunteering because you care and volunteering because you feel obligated now that you have “all this free time.”

The pressure is real. “You’re retired now! You should give back!” As if our decades of working and raising families wasn’t enough contribution to society.

Some retirees I know have packed their schedules so full of volunteer commitments that they’re more stressed than when they worked. They’re on five different committees, showing up to events they don’t care about, and silently resenting every obligation.

If volunteering doesn’t light you up, that’s okay. You don’t owe anyone your retirement.

7) Staying busy just to prove you’re still relevant

This might be the most insidious one.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that a full calendar equals a successful retirement. Research on retirement patterns shows that many boomers struggle with the pressure to stay constantly active and engaged, fearing that downtime signals decline.

So we say yes to everything. Join clubs we don’t enjoy. Attend events we’d rather skip. Fill every free moment with scheduled activities just to avoid the existential dread of having nothing to do.

But you know what? Sometimes doing nothing is exactly what we earned.

After 35 years of managing schedules, meeting deadlines, and being productive, I’ve learned that a quiet Tuesday morning with no plans isn’t failure. It’s freedom.

The most radical thing about retirement might just be giving yourself permission to stop performing.

Final thoughts

None of this means these activities are bad or that people who genuinely enjoy them are wrong. Plenty of folks love golf, thrive on cruises, and find real fulfillment in every item on this list.

The problem is the pressure to perform. To post the smiling photos, share the enthusiastic updates, and act like we’re living our best lives when really, we’re just checking boxes on someone else’s retirement checklist.

If you hate golf, stop playing. If cruises make you claustrophobic, book a cabin in the mountains instead. If your calendar is full of obligations disguised as leisure, start saying no.

We spent our whole lives meeting expectations. Isn’t it about time we gave ourselves permission to be honest about what we actually enjoy?

After all, retirement is about freedom. And sometimes the most freeing thing you can do is admit you’d rather walk your dog than spend another Saturday feigning interest in your handicap.