Lack of Belief

I was talking to my mother when I had an epiphany. She was asking me about what kind of job I wanted when I got out of school and then she said that if I don't get a career job right away, would I just settle for a job that paid ten dollars or so. I said that I would demand at least $30,000 a year (and that's an extremely low starting salary for someone with a master's degree). She persisted, however, as she kept saying, "Well, if you don't get a job like that, couldn't you just settle for a job that paid $10 an hour? You know, just some job at McDonald's or something like that?" I didn't know what she was getting at, but I didn't like the lack of confidence she had in me. Maybe she was asking that because she was desperate for me to move back home and she just wanted to know if I would accept just any job? Or maybe she wanted to know if I would be too demanding with my first career job and starting salary. In either case, I had a sudden epiphany: I didn't believe in myself because my mother didn't believe in me. Neither did my dad. I don't know what my brother thinks, but hopefully, it's better than what my parents think. For all that it was worth, I suddenly realized that my parents didn't believe in me much when I was growing up. They expected me to do well and kept pushing me harder and harder, but it seemed like they lacked the actual confidence that I could do it, that I could actually succeed at something. I know that I should have realized this sooner since it's apparent from the way they treat me, but when that's all you grow up with, it's hard to see anything else. It wasn't until I went off to college and made friends there who DID believe in me that I realized how my parents were wrong. They were wrong to expect so much and push me so hard while criticizing me and calling me a failure because I didn't meet their definition of "make something of myself." It isn't until I got real love and acceptance that I realized what life could be, how relationships could be. I felt like my relationship with my parents is just this mindless obedience of doing whatever they say and then taking their emotional abuse when they became disappointed. Now that I had something to contrast it, I suddenly saw it for what it was and let me tell you, I didn't like it. Then again, that begs the question: Why am I still working so hard to gain the approval of people who don't treat me well?