I wasn’t a disappointment in my childhood. My mother often said that when I was born she couldn’t believe she had got what she wanted - a girl. They already had a boy, and I don’t think she ever thought much of boys. Then when I was grownup my father, talking of me as achild, - I can repeat this because none of you know me - said I was “perfect. You were good, you were beautiful, you were clever”. Note the past tense.
I went on being perfect until in my mid-twenties, when I had the distinct feeling that in order not to be a disappointment I had to be married, and I showed no sign of that. This feeling came mostly from my father - I don’t think my mother minded much. Luckily I did marry in my late twenties, so that was all right. However, my assertiveness was seen as aggression, not feminine enough. One day my mother said “Whatever happened to my lovely daughter?”. That really hurt, and still does.