Many of you might have read Serena Williams’ retirement announcement in Vogue.

When I look at Serena, I see this formidable woman who has broken barriers. I see a hero. I see a conqueror.

And, even though I have a couple decades on her, Serena is my role model. She is the epitome of a strong, intelligent, powerful, ambitious, successful woman.  She’s one of the greatest athletes who ever lived. And she’s dominated her sport on her own terms.

But the real reason for my effusive praise is Serena’s honesty. Even with all her fame, money, talent and confidence she struggles with the same stuff we all do. In this recent Vogue article, she admitted how terrifying retirement is.

I empathize with her particular “Sophie’s choice” (or, in this case, “Serena’s Choice”). Continue with tennis – a sport she has dominated – or choose her family. Professional women – women who love their careers, but are also completely devoted to their children and families – have often found themselves in similar situations.

This choice is especially agonizing because Serena remains at the top of her game. It might be easier for her if she had slid in tennis rankings or had simply had her fill. But her passion for tennis remains.

While we may not have Serena’s spectacular career, many of us can relate. Just as we rack up success, master our own game, and enjoy the victories, it’s our time to step away.

The void and confusion that often comes with retirement is really not discussed. Nor is the inevitability of feeling irrelevant, or the difficulty of having to start over or reinvent ourselves.

 Retirement is – like money, sex, and increasingly politics – a taboo subject. Or rather, speaking honestly about retirement seems to be taboo.

I recall going to a pre-retirement seminar and being surrounded by all of these happy, relaxed people. Oh, if they only knew what they were in for.

Yeah, sure. Retirement is great for those who really hate their jobs. But if you’re like Serena, it’s tough to walk away when you’re at the apex of your career.

Serena wasn’t forced into retirement and neither was I. I decided to walk away when I was still passionate and successful. The challenge, for me at least, was forging a new path.

So, I appreciate Serena’s antipathy toward the word retirement. Instead, she speaks of evolution, and that seems right. For a few of us, the old adage about one door closing and another opening bears truth. But for many of us, if we’re completely honest, we’ve walked through a few wrong doors and some have even remained closed. Transition – evolution – is not easy. But the beauty is in the opportunity. To recreate ourselves or to explore completely new ventures. Serena already has a few irons in the fire that were likely not even on her horizon when she first became a champion.

So Serena will be just fine and, while I acknowledge the struggle of her transition, I am so very grateful and relieved that someone of her stature has had the courage to express her doubts and vulnerability. More than ever, Serena is my hero.