About Me

My name is Grace. I was born the fourth boy of five boys and one girl. We are all LDS (Mormon) and were raised with a deep sense of morals and values. Ever since my little sister was born, I've been jealous of her long hair, pretty clothes and curvy body. I remember trying on her dress when I was about 8 years old. I looked in the mirror at that green, flowery dress and saw a huge smile on my face. In my teens I tried on some bras in secret and thought my mom's were too plain. I wore panties whenever I could. Puberty was weird. All the "other" guys were growing thick mustaches, huge mounds of armpit hair, and toned biceps. I prided myself on having to shave only once every couple weeks. When I turned 19, I went on a mission and served faithfully for two years. Afterwards, my girlfriend and I broke up. A few months later, I met my wife and hid my cross dressing past from her. I thought it was in the past, that I'd never deal with it again. I was a man! I even fathered two wonderful sons. But my past came back. Ashamed and afraid, I continued hiding this part of me, lying to my wife and sneaking around. I tried feminizing herbs. I used  my wife's breast pump to enlarge my nipples. On business trips, I slept in lingerie. When my wife wasn't around, I took every chance I could to wear lingerie or a bra. I often wore panties, even in her presence. Wearing the clothes calmed me. My wife found out. She laid down some rules and threatened me into therapy or lose her. At first, I was very nervous and dubious about talking about my feelings and seeing a therapist. But I soon grew to love and cherish the sessions. We worked hard on my pornography addiction but didn't talk too much about my gender dysphoria. Those three years of therapy saved me. But through this time, I continued hiding and denying who I truly was. Multiple times, my wife had offhandedly said she'd divorce me if I decided I was gay. She was very judgmental. How could I tell her how I felt about myself, that part of me feels I'm a woman, if she was so quick to judge and slow to love. Her love was very conditional. For 10 years I suffered in the marriage, trying to love her.  After a weekend of cross dressing and discovery of hormones, she decided to divorce me. Two weeks later the paperwork was filed. Three months after that the divorce was final. Part of me deeply regrets the divorce, but part of me is so grateful I'm free of the constant criticism, the inability to be myself. Not looking to ever get married again, I met wife number 2 a couple months later. From the start I vowed to be completely honest with her. At two weeks, I told her about my GD, and she didn't run away but expressed her love. We got married about four months after that confession. Since then, she has been very supportive and loving as I struggle to understand who I am, struggle with the daily dysphoria, and struggle to love myself. I attend weekly support group meetings and see a therapist regularly to work on this part of me, to manage the dysphoria. I owe my wife my life. When I am with her, I am ME. I can be girly and wear whatever I want. I have been on hormones for over 10 months, and we are excited with all the changes.

Shortly after starting therapy, I started writing in my journal again. I hadn't written since right after my mission. I also started reading the scriptures every day. As a goal for some leadership training, I set out to run a 10 km race under 45 minutes. My best time in high school was under 37 minutes. After my mission, I had run maybe 5 races and wanted to get back into it. Ten-kilometer races were my favorite in high school, and I wished I could run them instead of the short 5-km ones. Near the time we graduated, some of the girls from the team started to train for the St. George marathon. I thought that was crazy. The most I had ever run was about 8 miles. As I got back into training, I slowly increased my mileage, and my times started improving. The town I lived in hosted five races throughout the season. I signed up for the first and didn't make my goal. So I ran another and improved my time a couple minutes. On the fourth attempt, I finally reached my goal. I wasn't done, though. Running, reading scriptures, and writing in my journal really helped me cope with the stresses of life and to slowly overcome my addiction. I met another runner from my therapy group, so we met up for a run. He bragged about his qualification for the Boston marathon. We ran 14 miles that day and walked two. I still thought running a marathon was crazy. Didn't the first guy die after running to Athens?! But it slowly became easier, and I wanted to run more. Soon, I was running 40-50 miles per week. On weekends, I put in 20+ mile runs. So I signed up for my first marathon, hoping to run it in under 4 hours. A few weeks before I ran the entire 26.2 miles just to say I could do it and see how long it would take me. It took under 4 hours. So going into the race, I thought I'd be lucky to get 3:30. I did. I finished in 3 hours, 8 minutes. For my age, that was just three minutes of qualifying for Boston. WOW. I got third place overall, much better than I ever thought. I yearned for more. I had read Born to Run by Scott McDougall. I cried when Caballo gave his speech after the race. I wanted to run ultramarathons too! If this was the kind of person these ultrarunners are, I wanted to be like them. The Tarahumara, Caballo, Scott and all the characters of the book were full of love towards others. So my training continued. I read everything I could about ultras. I found an 50k nearby. Because of a severe snowstorm, it got canceled the day before the race. So I had the race director transfer my registration to another 50k, a couple months later. The day before the race, my wife filed for divorce. I got fourth place in the race, finishing in about 5 hours. The course was very difficult with lots of climbing and some very technical sections. I could barely walk, but I was hooked. I ran another 50k a few months later, improving my time by 2 hours. I got second place in that race. The divorce finalized. I was crushed. I continued running and training but didn't feel like running another race. I got injured. Then I met my wife. She forbade me to run until my leg healed. As soon as I could, I got back into it. This time with more vigor and more drive. I found a fun 50-miler and ran it under 8 hours finishing second. A month later I ran my second 50-miler and qualified for the Western States 100-mile Endurance Run. Now I'm training for that.

That's my story. That is me, a mormon transgendered ultra runner. I'm unique. I love running. I love being girly. I love my wife with all my heart. I'm a father of two wonderful, intelligent, amazing, courageous sons. I love the Gospel. I know Joseph Smith saw God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ on that spring morning. I know the Book of Mormon came from God. I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is God's church restored to the earth in our day. Every day, I seek to know His will and to follow it. As Christ beckoned us to "come unto [him]" and "take [his] yoke upon [us]," I strive every day to follow him. He is our Saviour and atoned for our sins, for our wounds. All he asks is to follow him.

28 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.