“I Feel Guilty Saying No”: The Grandparent Guilt Trap

I recently came across a blog post from a 66-year-old who had just retired — and was already feeling the sting of grandparent guilt. Within a week, they were roped into doing five full days of unpaid childcare. Their words stuck with me: “I feel guilty saying no.”

That line hit hard. Retirement is supposed to be the start of something new — not just a handover into a new full-time role with no salary, no holidays, and no boundaries. There’s nothing wrong with helping out the family, of course. But feeling guilty for saying no? That’s a red flag — and a classic sign of grandparent guilt.

I’m Not a Grandparent — But I See It Daily

Our twin boys are 11 and have roughly the same energy levels as a pair of over-caffeinated squirrels. We’re lucky that their school is right across the street — no stressful school runs for us. But that gives me a front-row seat to what others go through, especially retired grandparents doing the daily drop-off grind.

Each morning, I see tired-looking senior carers and grandparents shouldering the school run. One older chap parks outside our house and gives me a knowing nod — the “good luck fellow grandad” kind. He nearly fell over when one of the boys shouted “Dad” — he assumed I was a grandparent too. Turns out, I’m just navigating the joyful chaos of late-life parenting.

Retirement: Rest Stop or New Job?

Many people hit retirement expecting to enjoy some retirement freedom — lie-ins, hobbies, maybe even learning the ukulele. Instead, they find themselves back in the thick of it with childcare in retirement — from toddler pickup to supervising homework five days a week.

Some embrace it. But others feel overwhelmed, trapped by family expectations and a creeping sense of burnout. Their diaries fill up fast — and not always with things they choose.

Why Grandparent Guilt Doesn’t Belong in Retirement

Let’s be honest: if you’ve spent decades working, commuting, raising children, and juggling responsibilities, you’ve earned the right to rest. Retirement guilt has no place here.

Helping with family is a gift — but it should be freely chosen. A “yes” is lovely, but a “no” is just as valid. And saying no to family doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you’re setting boundaries and protecting your time and health.

Redefining the Grandparent Role

It helps to reframe things. Grandparents aren’t just unpaid nannies — they’re role models, storytellers, and keepers of family history. Involvement doesn’t have to mean five-day weeks of unpaid childcare. It can be Sunday dinners, trips to the park, or an occasional sleepover.

Whether you’re looking after grandchildren full time or enjoying the odd weekend playdate, the key is doing what feels right for you.

Find Your Retirement Rhythm

Retirement expectations vary wildly. Some of us leap in with plans and Pinterest boards; others wake up thinking, “Now what?” Either way, this is your moment to shape life how you want it.

You might want to travel, volunteer, write a book, or yes — spend time with the grandkids. But do it because you want to, not because of pressure.

For more guidance on shaping retirement around your needs, Age UK has some excellent advice on planning for retirement.

If you’re struggling with purpose, routine, or stress in retirement, this NHS guide on mental health in later life provides 10 practical tips.

For broader emotional support and practical steps, Independent Age offers a helpful guide to mental wellbeing in later life.

Saying No Isn’t Selfish — It’s Grandparent Sanity

To anyone juggling nappies and nursery runs after decades of hard graft: you’re not selfish. You’re not ungrateful. And you’re certainly not a bad grandparent. You’re someone who deserves peace, joy, and choice.

Don’t let grandparent pressure define your days. Your time still matters. Whether it’s a lie-in, a painting class, or hiking in Wales, you’ve earned it.

It’s time we stopped normalising grandparent guilt — and started honouring the value of your time, energy, and choice.

Read what parenting at 60 looks like here, or see how I reframed my life after a diagnosis.