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What she/they wanted: me to marry my abuser and get the fuck out of their house asap and be a good little SAHM domestic breeder what the multiple children for him. I thank myself every day for deep down refusing to live with him. I was also meant to have a mediocre loser job that needed to pay equal to or less than theirs. And some weird romatisized fetish my mother had of me being a struggling impoverished financially destitute artistic type. I actually remember the word prideful face my mother had when I said I wanted to be a SAHM when I was 4 and the disgust she had and discouragement she elicited when I thought about being a vet at 5.
So weird story that will make the next part really interesting. when I was this meek little quiet severely underwieght 19yr old working in a retail job and my only socialising being my abuser and some old school friends my mother approached me out of nowhere told me I was going to end up on drugs and a prostitute and involved with bikie gangs like my aunt on my dad's side. My dad had disclosed my aunt had briefly been involved with the bikie gang and got into some trouble but mother didn't know I knew that. I don't think or believe my aunt was ever a hooker or a drug user though. This was years and years before my involvement or even desire to go near the sex industry. I don't even know why she made such a statement given I was a meek boring little shop assistant.
I actually ended up working in the sex industry not for the gangs and drugs but mostly due to being repeatedly discouraged from teriary education leading to repeated offers for unlivable wage jobs. Given the stigma about how they are all drug addicts (sadly it can be exposed to you sometimes) and gang affiliated I am doing remarkably well. My house is paid off before I am 30. I have afforded several surgeries and I can afford to travel the world and fix items in my house when I break almost immediately. Apart from the money I also like how of a man is nasty and abusive I'm only in a room with them for a maximum of an hour I can go and be upset to a bunch of other women who get it and I can go home afterwards instead of having years of my life destroyed.
A fun little skill I'm sure they will be disgusted and horrified by is I also briefly did a welding/tool course scared out of my wits I'd be in a room with 100 testorone filled men. And sometimes the ratio was 1/100, it was 1/20 on a good day but I went there and people were nice enough.
I'll probably buy a business when I quit instead of being the financially struggling impoverished loser/abusers house slave and breeding cow like they dreamed for me.