That is likely the root of the problem right there. When I was 33, I was married and living in my own house with two children of my own. I saw my parents maybe two or three times a year, usually on holidays. When we saw each other, we treated each other as equals.
Children need to make that break from the "parent/child" relationship at an early age. Otherwise, they are setting themselves up for a lifetime of dysfunction. It is more up to the children to make that break, otherwise the parents will always look to maintain control in the relationship.
When I was still early in my 20s, I went to visit them one time and we got into an argument. I forget the exact reason for the argument but it revolved around my choice to continue working at my current job instead of "looking for something better." My mom especially thought it was a dead end job and that I was not reaching my potential. I replied that it was really none of her business what I chose to do for a career.
Well I didn't let it escalate to a heated argument. I simply walked out of their home, into the car (that I owned) and went back to my own apartment. I did not speak to them again for at least a few weeks but I did not hold a grudge. When we finally did speak again at a family gathering, we had a nice discussion and I did not even bring up our previous altercation. That was when I made my break and established myself as a mature adult in their eyes, capable of making my own decisions. Our relationship from that point on was always based on mutual respect.
Had I allowed my parents to browbeat me into leaving my job for something that they deemed worthy of me, I would simply have remained their emotional dependent. I see that all too often with adults who are well into their 30s and even 40s. They continue to allow their parents to have control over their lives. I do not think that is healthy.
From the day a kid is born the parents have one job to do. Make the kid a little more independent each and every day.
It was on a Monday, the day before my oldest turned 18. Her best friend is a girl names Jessica.
She asked if she could go to the mall with Jess on Wednesday.
I asked how old she’d be on Wednesday. She said 18.
I said “Everything changes from can I go to I’m going to the mall with Jess.”
Her eyes lit with realization.
All four of mine moved out and independent by the time they were 20. 18 in one case.
They have decent jobs, and while we’re always on board to help, they don’t ask.
So? Did you get a better job?
:-)