my mother finds out I hired a personal trainer (m)

Without naming names, someone in my family let slip to my mother that I hired a personal trainer.  I got the "Let's hope it works THIS time" look from her.

It's not that my mother is unsupportive.  In fact, she would like nothing more than to see me thin.  Even this weekend, when I was modeling the white suit, she paid me a compliment.  "You are doing GREAT.  Keep it up."  This is the highest praise I could hope to receive.

The issue is that my mother has suffered through all my attempts to slenderize and feminize.  The efforts are many and go as far back as I do. 

Here's a recap.

After two difficult pregnancies and more difficult deliveries, my mother had two sons.  Her doctor advised her not to try for a third child.  She really wanted a girl (a genuine bows and dresses girl) and so she tried one last time.  To ensure success, she made a pact with the Virgin Mary that she would name the child after her AND her mother if she had a girl.  It happened and the names were given to me.  I was horrified when I found out.

At an early age, I was a tomboy.  I would revel in the mud, play kick the can in the streets with my brothers, and loved climbing fences to cut lilacs from the neighbors' trees.  I was so wild on my rocking horse that I broke the springs.  Even at 9 months, they put me in my playpen with the bottom on the top to create a "ceiling" so I wouldn't climb out.

My mother tried a number of organizations to develop me into a lady.  Some of the highlights include:

* Ballet--I got kicked out for being disrespectful because I said it was boring. The instructor told me that I "wasn't going to make it" (as what? star of the Nutcracker?)
* Jazz-taught by the gum-snapping Marino sisters.  I left because I was embarrassed with the jazz movements.  I felt ridiculous.
* Swimming--stopped at the third lesson when you had to put your head under water.  I am claustrophobic.  I didn't have the heart to tell my mother I quit yet another thing so I went to the pool, dipped my suit in the water, wrung it out and read Catcher in the Rye until the lessons were over.
*Singer Sewing- Malden Center.  The class was for 9-12 year olds.  I was 12 and looked 16.  The rest were cute 10 year-old girls.  Every time I raised my hand for help, the instructor would roll her eyes and say "I'll be with you in a minute."  She never came.  I kept cutting the mistakes out of the fabric until I ended up with something that wouldn't fit a Barbie.  We had to model what we made and I spent the night before the last class at my Italian cousin's house (she was right off the boat and a seamstress) until she made a replica "with mistake-os".
* Jordan Marsh Charm School-went with my friends Michele and Susan.  It was only a few hours so they couldn't kick me out.  I remember going before the head woman who had to assess our "runway" walk.  She looked at me and grunted.  I had on a Fisherman knit dress which showed every bulge.  What I did get from this was "up-back-down".  That's how you square off your shoulders (all the way up, then all the way back, then all the way down...try it).
* Drill Team-apparently I wasn't "hot" enough to be a majorette.  They made me clean the bus.  I did it once and quit.
* Girl Scouts-seriously, how was I supposed to lose weight when the focus was on selling cookies?  I think I ate more than I sold.
* Tap Dancing-we have a winner!  Armed with a coupon from the town newspaper, I went to tap class in the basement of the Baptist Church.   The instructor, Ms. J, and all the other students were African -American.  It was the late 1960s.  I loved my teacher and my classmates.  I lasted the entire semester and my legs were buffed.  My recital was "Steppin' Out with My Baby".  I told my parents the night before the recital that I was "different" than everyone in my class.  Their mouths were open the whole recital.

So, as you can see, my track record is spotty at best.  However, I've matured and my trainer seems to have a great sense of humor.

She has to.