Opposites
Just because I vote for a different party doesn’t mean they have to yell at me, calling me a "traitor to the family!"
Mentally
I’m not "being dramatic"—I have a diagnosed mental health condition (bipolar disorder) that requires medication and therapy. They think I should just "pull myself together" and that if I decide to be well, I’d get better.
That darn laptop
"You’re always sitting in front of that computer!" My parents are lovely but almost 80 years old, and they still think I’m just playing video games all day. They don’t get how I can earn money by "just" working from home. To them, work means getting dressed and going somewhere; "home office," "online work," or grandkids doing homework on a computer is just beyond their understanding.
From boy to girl
That my elementary school classmate Robi—who they loved and who often visited us—is now Berta, or Roberta.
Spending with both hands
That I can’t buy my own place not because I "throw money away on nonsense," but because even if I worked my fingers to the bone, I wouldn’t stand a chance—the prices for rundown, suburban studios are sky-high.
Boundaries
When I visit home from the dorm, I don’t close my door because I’m "doing drugs or watching porn," but because I like being naked in the evenings and, at my age, I know how to set my boundaries. When I told them they wouldn’t need to close the door if they learned to knock, they both took great offense.
Paternal joys
My cousin Réka got married to her girlfriend in Luxembourg a few years ago and, with the help of a friend, is now expecting their first child. They understood that Réka loves girls, but the idea that the baby was conceived with a friend’s sperm and will have two moms is a bit much for them. Still, they’re happy for Réka’s joy.
Transportation
My parents, who have lived their whole lives in a small village, don’t get why I refuse my uncle’s old, beat-up car—not because I’m "ungrateful," but because I live near downtown where traffic is a nightmare, jams are constant, parking costs a fortune and is nearly impossible to find, cars get broken into weekly, and gas and insurance would drain me dry. Public transit, on the other hand, gets me anywhere in minutes.
Social media presence
Mom, you don’t need to sign your Facebook comments—everyone can see it’s you. Dad, no matter how many times you comment under a politician’s post, you won’t change anyone’s mind. And no, you don’t have to write "proud grandma/grandpa" under every grandkid photo.
Job hopping
In today’s world, it’s normal to change jobs often and work for different companies. My dad worked at the same factory his whole life and retired from there. When my mom hears I have a new job, she always asks about my pension, but I laugh and tell her it doesn’t matter—by the time I retire, pensions will be so minimal—if they even exist—that I won’t be able to live on them.
