I know she did the best she could, but I resent my mom. I blame her for not helping me figure out my sexuality sooner.
I come from a pretty liberal family. My mother gave us a sex ed presentation (white board drawings and everything) when I was ten about the inner workings of our bodies, and how we reproduce. Sex has never been censored in our household. She protested no discrimination towards any group. Yet I feel like she should have known.
When I was around five, we went on a family vacation. There was a counselor there that I grew very fond of. When we left, I cried because I would never see her again. I remember this very vividly because it is such an important memory.
When I switched schools in sixth grade, I went to say goodbye to my friends. Waiting for my best friend to come back from recess, I imagined it would be like those cheesy romantic movies where two people run towards each other and hug before they have to say goodbye.
In college, I did everything for my best friend. We went on dates, held hands, did homework together, spooned in bed. (it's very confusing that women can have this sort of relationship but still be just friends).
But we were still a heteronormative family. When I revealed to my parents that I had a crush on a guy (on the rare occasions that I did), my mom would push me to wear dresses and make-up (things I never did). She told me that I would definitely have a boyfriend if I made myself girly.
I always refused. I did not want to pretend to be someone I wasn't in order to be in a relationship. So I haven't dated a lot in my life.
And I know that she has issues from her own childhood that still plague her to this day. Issues we still have to tip toe around. But I feel like she tried to fit me into this box of "how to be happy". Step 1 - seduce man. Step 2 - marry man. Step 3 - have multiple kids. Step 4 - happiness. That is not a one size fits all.
Hopefully this never boils to the surface. She wouldn't take it well and there's nothing to be done at this point. It took me more than 30 years to figure myself out, and I strongly believe if my parents had asked what made me happy, I would've accepted myself much sooner.