'I chose to retire at 55 years old. I didn't expect the judgement.'

Last September, I chose to retire. I was 55 years old.

The decision came after nearly 40 years of working full-time and then part-time while raising a family. The mortgage and cars were paid off, our child was settling into uni life and part-time work, and we had a couple of investment units I was managing. My husband loves his job and was fully supportive of my decision.

Upon reading this, like many people I know, you might be feeling a little bit, well, judgy.

"It's alright for some!" is a common, somewhat bitter, crow that I get from my work-weary mates.

Other responses include: "But what do you do all day?" "Aren't you a little young for retirement?" "Pfft. I'd be bored out of my mind."

These are often said with a slightly curled lip, a furrowed brow and distinct air of, well, disapproval that I'm just being lazy.

The resultant shame and guilt I feel about my decision is surprising as well as saddening. And I get it: I am lucky to be in a position to be able to do it. And here I am, having a whinge about it. Boo hoo!

Watch: Jana Pittman speaks about retirement on Insight. Post continues below.

But hear me out. My parents retired at 55 due to redundancy: a hidden blessing, it turned out because Dad passed away at 70. If they'd waited until they were 65, they would have only had five years of retirement together. After 50 years of working.

As a woman with chronic health issues, this fact haunts me.

The strange thing is, the backlash I've received about retiring early isn't a global thing. It's an Australian, or rather Western, thing, because we put so much emphasis (and so much of our identity) into our jobs.

These days, being busy is a flex and 'doing nothing' is borderline criminal. Think about it — the first question we ask a new acquaintance is, "So what do you do?" And by that, we mean a job. Your response will elicit judgment, and you will be pigeon-holed.

Don't believe me? 'Doctor' (money, status). 'Secretary' (no tertiary education, a bit boring. Trust me, I used to be one). 'Lawyer' (money, ambition). 'Stay-at-home mum' (no career, no aspirations, a bit lazy). 'Nothing much' (bludger).

Yet it's not like that everywhere in the world.

This year, I was fortunate enough to spend some time in Italy, where the sayings 'la dolce vita' (the sweet life) and 'dolce far niente' (the sweetness of doing nothing) are something most Italians take literally.

When I told Italian folk I was retired, they nodded and smiled approvingly. Unlike my Aussie brethren, they weren't the least bit taken aback or judgmental.

Paid employment, careers, money and owning lots of stuff simply aren't held in as high regard in Italy as they are here (but heaven help you if you skip lunch or dinner). Their priorities are different to ours. The pace of life is slower; more balanced.

There's work to be done, of course, but it's often a different kind of work — more physical and industrious. Gardening, landscaping and home DIY are massive in Italy, and rarely done watching the clock.

Summer holidays are a must, necessitating a long, leisurely break by the sea with family and friends.

An impromptu dance class, Rimini beach, Italy. Image: Supplied.

The coastline gets crowded during the August holidays.

Rimini Beach. Image: Supplied.

The same with mealtimes. For example, dinner might consist of splitting logs with an axe for the wood barbecue at around 5pm so that dinner can be served over the coals at around sunset, or 9pm. The dinner itself might include grilled bruschetta to start, followed by fish or meat, then a separate salad, then maybe a couple of cannoli, then coffee, then liqueurs. The pace is slow and unhurried, with lots of chatting and laughing. There's no guilt in taking your time, because it's viewed as perfectly normal behaviour. Before you know it, it's past midnight (which you didn't realise because you stopped wearing a watch weeks ago).

And as for Sundays — well, it's always a long, relaxed lunch with la famiglia. No wonder millions from the West flock to Italy each year.

As for me?I think I'm going to split my time between the two countries over the next few years. Because while Australians might have more money and material goods thanks to a live-to-work attitude, Italians have a much stronger sense of family and community, as well as a respect that borders on reverence for something the West seems to revile — free time.

And they're qualities that, deep down, I think many weary, isolated Australians yearn for.

Jenny Susanto-Lee is a former journalist with Seven West Media. She currently lives in Perth, Western Australia with her family.

Feature Image: Supplied.