Miss Fuck It
Crowns. Sashes. Heels. Swimsuit. Butt glue. Batons. Makeup. Hair. Nails. Spray tan. Eyelashes. Curtain call. Jazz shoes. Shiny lights. Photographers. Newspapers. TV. Platform. Interview. Smile. White strips. Perfection. Rinse. Repeat.
I spent twelve years of my life competing in pageantry. And today, I'd like to formally resign my title as Miss Pageantry and exchange it for a title I find to be a bit more fitting.
Today, I'll assume the title of Miss Fuck It. The following is my telling of why.
However...
I do believe there are some things within pageantry that don't work, and I would go as far as to say they're heavily detrimental. And that's what I'm here to talk about today. As a disclaimer, these are my experiences and my experiences only. In this life, at this particular time, it's important and valuable to me that I share the truth... and not just the highlights. Allow me to kindly remind you that when someone tells their story or shares an experience they've had, we don't really get the option of telling them they're right or wrong.
When I began pageants, I was 11-years-old. I was being bullied by girls at my private Catholic school and was teased up and down for my appearance, but in the same breath could be hit on by a twenty-something man at our local mall. Early adolescence was a fucking weird time, man. I started pageants because the older girls at my dance studio did them, and to no one's surprise, I wanted to be them. They were my idols, so if they were a bird, I was a fuckin' bird.
Pageants were gracious to me until they weren't. If you're lucky, pageants will give you the impeccable opportunity to do a lot of introspection, to learn the art of accepting feedback and constructive criticism and apply that feedback, and the chance to become an activist. So, again... if you're lucky, pageants can make you one of the best versions of yourself possible. I identify with this. But I also identify with the opposing side, which is, if you aren't so lucky: pageants will make you a fucking nightmare.
There simply cannot be one sole reason for this, but I have seen it unfold before my beady eyeballs time and time again. I have seen the nicest girls become pure evil all in the name of obtaining a crown. I have seen the smartest girls dumb themselves down in an effort to be more sexy. I have seen the most beautiful women do things to their bodies that takes decades to recover from... if they're given the chance. I have seen and watched and heard and been apart of a system that, at times, perpetuates the hate from women to other women. It can be a dark place if you aren't careful, and that's just the honest-to-God truth.
Now, if you're reading this and suddenly your forehead is hot and you're fuming with anger getting ready to send me some message asking me who I think I am, consider this: did you participate in pageantry? And I mean really participate... where you gave years of your life to a program in an effort to be just the right thing that it wanted in the name of a title? Did you change your life to become Miss Whatever? Did you get on that stage in six inch heels and a bathing suit and willingly subject yourself to the criticisms of five strangers (lest we forget an entire fucking audience... sometimes on national television) with glue on your ass? If not, then your place to get angry isn't particularly valid. I only say that because I understand what the opposing statements are. "But Maggie, you did pageants for so long!" "You were first runner up three times, so you're just butthurt." "You weren't good enough, what would you know?" Listen, I have done enough therapy to know that I was apart of a system that did do incredible things for me, yet still understand and ACCEPT that it was simultaneously deeply flawed. Read that again. You also can love something and hope it changes for the better. Read that again, too.
And in a way, we all subscribe to those systems. For me, they were the Catholic Church, a sorority at a vehemently racist University, and pageantry, to name a few. We all identify with and have been apart of a system or a program or a practice that has had detrimental side effects. This is just my telling of those side effects.
For reference, I was First Runner Up three separate times in my pageant career. Junior Miss Iowa 2008, Teen Miss Iowa 2012, and Miss Iowa 2018. I have also been a fourth runner up, a third runner up, a second runner up... and I've also not placed. I have a pretty good understanding of what it's like to feel like you can never quite measure up. Like maybe if it had just been five different humans your chance would have come. Or maybe if it were the following Saturday, you could've been the winner. Or maybe if your hair were different or your family could throw down more change on a different evening gown, you'd secure the crown and tell everyone about your American Dream. But I also understand and accept that my apparent shortcomings in the pageantry world weren't really shortcomings after all... they all led me to right here. And right here is right on time.
Pageantry can provide a very special opportunity for a woman to loathe herself. If you're fortunate, you might come out with some self-esteem issues and a general distaste for women with the opposing hair color. If you're one of the not-so-lucky ones, you will come out having placed much of your identity and purpose in pageantry, and -- myself included -- may even have a relapse into an eating disorder. These are very real realities that women in pageantry face. Pageantry, at some point, becomes a question of what you're willing to give in order to get it. It being the title, the crown, the placement, the accolade. I have known this from my own experience, and from the experiences of dozens of women who have confided in me in the aftermath of their experience.
While the development of confidence is certainly something that can be bestowed upon a woman after her time in pageantry, that confidence can come at a cost. I say 'can' in front of a lot of these sentences because they are strictly hypotheticals, of course. But they've all happened to me, and several of my friends, and really, most women I've known in pageantry. Carrying on...
That cost is dangerous. It's the muttering about some girl's swimsuit being see through and then not telling her after she gets onstage. It's the glares in the dressing room when you realize you and Becky have a similar evening gown. It's the rumors and verbal fuckery that ensue when you decide to go against the grain and do things just a little bit differently. It's anarchy and pure chaos if you aren't careful. Confidence? Sure. But only you know what you're willing to pay for it. Because make no mistake, you will pay something. And broken systems will make damn sure of it.
When I was involved in pageants, the word "real" became a buzzword. Everyone wanted a "real" Miss Whatever. They wanted her to be this, that, and that other thing, but also be quirky, have the ability to tell jokes, laugh at herself, be "authentic," but also be an absolute sex machine in a bikini onstage. I did those things. I was those things. I followed the rules, I did the steps, I played the part when I needed to. And you know what that forced me into doing (and really, which is my entire point here today)?
It made me give a lot of fucks about a lot of stupid shit.
Would my earrings carefully complement my dress? Oh, I better chemically straighten my naturally curly hair so it looks more "tame." These shoes...? With that dress...? What talent song would I use? It has to be the perfect combination of fun and upbeat but also have meaning!!! Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't swear on social media, even if it is just apart of who you are. You don't want the judges thinking you can't be "professional." Oh, also, when expressing your political views on social media, be sure to appeal to both sides, so that you're equally as vocal as you are wishy-washy. Did Becky buy the same cocktail dress as me? How dare she! Who does she think sh--
Holy shit.
No wonder I was so tired. Nearly everything I did within the realm of pageantry was solely for the purpose of comfortability of others. And to that I say: no fucking thanks.
When we think about the amount of fucks we have to give in a day, it can be classified as a "fuck bank." Say you're given ten. Pageant girls use those ten within the first hour of waking. And if you're in the week countdown to a local, state, or national pageant? Assume you'll use those within ten minutes of waking. I know I did. So when I say all these things about pageantry... the main point I'm trying to make is that it was exhausting because my fuck bank was absolutely and astronomically depleted. At. All. Times.
It is my job now as the human I am to be honest about the whole truth of my life, in every single area. It is what I value and where I find importance. I don't want to just know why something is good. I want to also know the problematic factors at play, and potentially how we can solve them.
I have contemplated for the last five years on a nearly constant loop how the world of pageantry could be different and could be better. What I have gathered is a really imperfect answer with several notions weaved together into a potentially really shitty blanket; I am not perfect and do not have all the answers. But I know this: until the day comes when pageantry is a world that is wholly inclusive of all types of women, from LGBTQ+ women to tattooed women to women of color to disabled women and every little crevice in between, we will continue to see the same subjective choices made over and over by judges who... sorry... for lack of better term: are mentally and emotionally outdated themselves.
Pageantry not only needs a revamp in the way they view what it means to be a woman, period, but they also need a revamp in the way they open their minds and hearts to these women. And the way to change this is by a challenging and drastic personal inquiry of all you know to be true about womanhood. That answer cannot be the same answer you would have given in 2003, or even 2013. That answer must continuously evolve. And it's dangerous if it doesn't. Because in the discontinuation of exploring the idea of how women evolve, judges, parents, and participants themselves are hurting women of all types, sizes, colors, and backgrounds. This is not empowerment. This is disenfranchised bullshit.
To wrap this up into the best Dollar General bow I could find, know this: pageantry made me into who I am, yes. This is a fact. But as stated before, loving something and hoping it can change for the better are allowed to coexist. And that is how I feel about pageantry. It's a system that affords women the option to get onstage willingly in front of people and fail -- very publicly -- over and over again. And this is how she evolves. But the participants can't be the only ones evolving. At some point, every person who plays their tiny snippet of a role in the world of pageantry should challenge all they know to be true about what it means to be a role model, including the institutions themselves. Let's face it: the fact that I like the word 'fuck' and have a few tattoos doesn't make me any less qualified to represent women, and shouldn't be the reason why I'm looked at differently than Becky.
Until all types and kinds of women are represented, we all lose. Not even a crown can change that.
And fuck Becky.
I spent twelve years of my life competing in pageantry. And today, I'd like to formally resign my title as Miss Pageantry and exchange it for a title I find to be a bit more fitting.
Today, I'll assume the title of Miss Fuck It. The following is my telling of why.
I gained such invaluable experience from my days in pageantry. I learned (shockingly & ironically) how to be professional in tough situations, how to think on my feet, how to formulate opinions on intense issues at a young age and adjust those opinions as I grew, how to tell people what I needed in a blatantly honest way (this usually applied to the lighting curator at the Adler Theater who organized the lighting placements for baton twirlers at Miss Iowa every year). I learned the value of what it means to respect and enjoy the presence of other women -- oddly, as I was competing against them. I learned how to fundraise and advocate for causes I care about, I learned how to speak my (liberal) mind in thirty seconds when asked about illegal immigration in front of a sold out audience after being announced into the top five ten seconds earlier, and I learned the impeccable arts of applying two sets of false eyelashes at one time, spraying butt glue on, contouring my abs for swimsuit, and how to prevent sweaty palms when I went onstage for talent. I learned the value of service, friendship, perseverance, being a role model, steadfast dedication, a stellar performance, relentless support, scholarship and education, and so much more. My privilege in the arena of pageantry is astounding. I have been given so many opportunities because of pageantry and a vast majority of my best friends are ones I have found within the realm of pageantry.
However...
I do believe there are some things within pageantry that don't work, and I would go as far as to say they're heavily detrimental. And that's what I'm here to talk about today. As a disclaimer, these are my experiences and my experiences only. In this life, at this particular time, it's important and valuable to me that I share the truth... and not just the highlights. Allow me to kindly remind you that when someone tells their story or shares an experience they've had, we don't really get the option of telling them they're right or wrong.
When I began pageants, I was 11-years-old. I was being bullied by girls at my private Catholic school and was teased up and down for my appearance, but in the same breath could be hit on by a twenty-something man at our local mall. Early adolescence was a fucking weird time, man. I started pageants because the older girls at my dance studio did them, and to no one's surprise, I wanted to be them. They were my idols, so if they were a bird, I was a fuckin' bird.
Pageants were gracious to me until they weren't. If you're lucky, pageants will give you the impeccable opportunity to do a lot of introspection, to learn the art of accepting feedback and constructive criticism and apply that feedback, and the chance to become an activist. So, again... if you're lucky, pageants can make you one of the best versions of yourself possible. I identify with this. But I also identify with the opposing side, which is, if you aren't so lucky: pageants will make you a fucking nightmare.
There simply cannot be one sole reason for this, but I have seen it unfold before my beady eyeballs time and time again. I have seen the nicest girls become pure evil all in the name of obtaining a crown. I have seen the smartest girls dumb themselves down in an effort to be more sexy. I have seen the most beautiful women do things to their bodies that takes decades to recover from... if they're given the chance. I have seen and watched and heard and been apart of a system that, at times, perpetuates the hate from women to other women. It can be a dark place if you aren't careful, and that's just the honest-to-God truth.
Now, if you're reading this and suddenly your forehead is hot and you're fuming with anger getting ready to send me some message asking me who I think I am, consider this: did you participate in pageantry? And I mean really participate... where you gave years of your life to a program in an effort to be just the right thing that it wanted in the name of a title? Did you change your life to become Miss Whatever? Did you get on that stage in six inch heels and a bathing suit and willingly subject yourself to the criticisms of five strangers (lest we forget an entire fucking audience... sometimes on national television) with glue on your ass? If not, then your place to get angry isn't particularly valid. I only say that because I understand what the opposing statements are. "But Maggie, you did pageants for so long!" "You were first runner up three times, so you're just butthurt." "You weren't good enough, what would you know?" Listen, I have done enough therapy to know that I was apart of a system that did do incredible things for me, yet still understand and ACCEPT that it was simultaneously deeply flawed. Read that again. You also can love something and hope it changes for the better. Read that again, too.
And in a way, we all subscribe to those systems. For me, they were the Catholic Church, a sorority at a vehemently racist University, and pageantry, to name a few. We all identify with and have been apart of a system or a program or a practice that has had detrimental side effects. This is just my telling of those side effects.
For reference, I was First Runner Up three separate times in my pageant career. Junior Miss Iowa 2008, Teen Miss Iowa 2012, and Miss Iowa 2018. I have also been a fourth runner up, a third runner up, a second runner up... and I've also not placed. I have a pretty good understanding of what it's like to feel like you can never quite measure up. Like maybe if it had just been five different humans your chance would have come. Or maybe if it were the following Saturday, you could've been the winner. Or maybe if your hair were different or your family could throw down more change on a different evening gown, you'd secure the crown and tell everyone about your American Dream. But I also understand and accept that my apparent shortcomings in the pageantry world weren't really shortcomings after all... they all led me to right here. And right here is right on time.
Pageantry can provide a very special opportunity for a woman to loathe herself. If you're fortunate, you might come out with some self-esteem issues and a general distaste for women with the opposing hair color. If you're one of the not-so-lucky ones, you will come out having placed much of your identity and purpose in pageantry, and -- myself included -- may even have a relapse into an eating disorder. These are very real realities that women in pageantry face. Pageantry, at some point, becomes a question of what you're willing to give in order to get it. It being the title, the crown, the placement, the accolade. I have known this from my own experience, and from the experiences of dozens of women who have confided in me in the aftermath of their experience.
While the development of confidence is certainly something that can be bestowed upon a woman after her time in pageantry, that confidence can come at a cost. I say 'can' in front of a lot of these sentences because they are strictly hypotheticals, of course. But they've all happened to me, and several of my friends, and really, most women I've known in pageantry. Carrying on...
That cost is dangerous. It's the muttering about some girl's swimsuit being see through and then not telling her after she gets onstage. It's the glares in the dressing room when you realize you and Becky have a similar evening gown. It's the rumors and verbal fuckery that ensue when you decide to go against the grain and do things just a little bit differently. It's anarchy and pure chaos if you aren't careful. Confidence? Sure. But only you know what you're willing to pay for it. Because make no mistake, you will pay something. And broken systems will make damn sure of it.
When I was involved in pageants, the word "real" became a buzzword. Everyone wanted a "real" Miss Whatever. They wanted her to be this, that, and that other thing, but also be quirky, have the ability to tell jokes, laugh at herself, be "authentic," but also be an absolute sex machine in a bikini onstage. I did those things. I was those things. I followed the rules, I did the steps, I played the part when I needed to. And you know what that forced me into doing (and really, which is my entire point here today)?
 |
| Me, not giving a fuck. |
Would my earrings carefully complement my dress? Oh, I better chemically straighten my naturally curly hair so it looks more "tame." These shoes...? With that dress...? What talent song would I use? It has to be the perfect combination of fun and upbeat but also have meaning!!! Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't swear on social media, even if it is just apart of who you are. You don't want the judges thinking you can't be "professional." Oh, also, when expressing your political views on social media, be sure to appeal to both sides, so that you're equally as vocal as you are wishy-washy. Did Becky buy the same cocktail dress as me? How dare she! Who does she think sh--
Holy shit.
No wonder I was so tired. Nearly everything I did within the realm of pageantry was solely for the purpose of comfortability of others. And to that I say: no fucking thanks.
When we think about the amount of fucks we have to give in a day, it can be classified as a "fuck bank." Say you're given ten. Pageant girls use those ten within the first hour of waking. And if you're in the week countdown to a local, state, or national pageant? Assume you'll use those within ten minutes of waking. I know I did. So when I say all these things about pageantry... the main point I'm trying to make is that it was exhausting because my fuck bank was absolutely and astronomically depleted. At. All. Times.
It is my job now as the human I am to be honest about the whole truth of my life, in every single area. It is what I value and where I find importance. I don't want to just know why something is good. I want to also know the problematic factors at play, and potentially how we can solve them.
I have contemplated for the last five years on a nearly constant loop how the world of pageantry could be different and could be better. What I have gathered is a really imperfect answer with several notions weaved together into a potentially really shitty blanket; I am not perfect and do not have all the answers. But I know this: until the day comes when pageantry is a world that is wholly inclusive of all types of women, from LGBTQ+ women to tattooed women to women of color to disabled women and every little crevice in between, we will continue to see the same subjective choices made over and over by judges who... sorry... for lack of better term: are mentally and emotionally outdated themselves.
Pageantry not only needs a revamp in the way they view what it means to be a woman, period, but they also need a revamp in the way they open their minds and hearts to these women. And the way to change this is by a challenging and drastic personal inquiry of all you know to be true about womanhood. That answer cannot be the same answer you would have given in 2003, or even 2013. That answer must continuously evolve. And it's dangerous if it doesn't. Because in the discontinuation of exploring the idea of how women evolve, judges, parents, and participants themselves are hurting women of all types, sizes, colors, and backgrounds. This is not empowerment. This is disenfranchised bullshit.
To wrap this up into the best Dollar General bow I could find, know this: pageantry made me into who I am, yes. This is a fact. But as stated before, loving something and hoping it can change for the better are allowed to coexist. And that is how I feel about pageantry. It's a system that affords women the option to get onstage willingly in front of people and fail -- very publicly -- over and over again. And this is how she evolves. But the participants can't be the only ones evolving. At some point, every person who plays their tiny snippet of a role in the world of pageantry should challenge all they know to be true about what it means to be a role model, including the institutions themselves. Let's face it: the fact that I like the word 'fuck' and have a few tattoos doesn't make me any less qualified to represent women, and shouldn't be the reason why I'm looked at differently than Becky.
Until all types and kinds of women are represented, we all lose. Not even a crown can change that.
And fuck Becky.
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