Bailey Tries... A Pageant

How fun is this wall?!?

I vividly remember the first two costumes I picked out as a kid. One was a bride and the other was Miss America with a scepter. (Yes, I’m THAT Miss America old.) I blame my mother because I grew up reading her fashion textbooks, hearing stories of working in formal wear boutiques and of course watching pageants on TV together which if you’re not from the South is a traditional sport for most women. Like the Super Bowl meets a royal wedding. We’re all in with parties, themed foods, costumes and score cards. It’s literally the most fun!

Add my lifetime love of Suzanne Sugarbaker to this mix and you can see why I was obsessed early on. I just adored these beautiful, graceful and talented women who all looked like princesses to me and all seemed to be having the best time ever. I decided I wanted to join them one day and added that to my list of future plans. Then reality hit.

Actually, junior high started and my plans changed. I remember the first time I felt uncomfortable in my body. It was a church camp in upper elementary school when I was going to have to wear a t-shirt over my swimsuit at the pool because I had a chest. My friends were shopping at the Limited Too and I needed underwire. I decided swimming wasn’t a camp activity for me anymore. 

As I entered my preteen years I began to recognize the “best friend” supporting role I seemed fit for… you know the background character in every scene that no one takes much notice of unless she has a line. Boys called my house to talk but it was to ask for my help in getting friends to go with them to the homecoming dance or to see what they would want for Valentine’s Day. (The “Titanic” soundtrack on cassette tape, obviously.) I was happy for my friends and glad to be included and patiently waited my turn until the attention I received became harsh, unkind and cruel. 

I was mooed at in the cafeteria and had food thrown at me so I stopped eating in public for the next decade and a half. I was sent love grams by classmates with ugly messages as an embarrassing joke which led me to treat any “good thing” with suspicion and I was asked out by the popular crowd to humiliate me for a laugh which I shamefully have made many suitors pay for since. I quickly built walls and mechanisms to cope without realizing I was building a new identity within myself. 

I decided life would be safer if I could blend in with the wallpaper… a self-imposed wallflower status as it were which meant no stages or crowns for me. That was for pretty, graceful, attractive girls. I could enjoy pageantry from the sidelines and cheer those ladies on which I did happily. Of course, a desire to do pageants wasn’t all I gave up in my self-protecting, self-sabotaging years but in a weird way it reflects the heart of the matter. 

As I grew through my teens and early twenties, my view of self was further dampened by those closer to me who liked to remind me that while others were beautiful I had an “okay personality” or that I was really obnoxiously tall which made me tower over guys and was probably why I was single. 

My favorite was a conversation in my early twenties with a close friend where I was informed that I just wasn’t the type of woman guys found attractive but that at least if a man ever did show interest in me I’d know he was being genuine. Like, he clearly wouldn’t be with me because he was physically attracted to me but maybe he had gotten to know me enough to find the good beyond the exterior problems. This is 100% a true story. 

I took her critique to heart because it lined up with my experiences and expectations to that point. Plus, at the time I considered her one of my closest friends. It never occurred to me that she might have had a nefarious intent behind her comments. I thought she was showing me a silver lining and trying to be encouraging because I couldn’t dream of doing that to another person. 

So, the cycle continued for years with me self-sabotaging out of fear and a skewed identity. And please don’t misunderstand me. Yes, some of my biggest insecurities were in my physical self but there were tons of other areas that became warped as I chased perfectionism and control in an effort to avoid pain. I hurt others before they could hurt me. I decided I’d rather be alone than risk someone seeing the broken bits and running away screaming. I tried to earn love by performance, perfectionism and people pleasing… convinced it was the only value I had. Convinced that people would only want me around if I could “do something” for them. 

Then, nearly a decade ago I hit rock bottom in my cycle of fear and loathing. I call this my “Less Bitter, More Glitter” season where the Lord got a hold of my attitude and started to drag me out of the muddy pit I was in. As strange as it sounds, even in all the negativity, my focus was very selfish and blurred my ability to see what the Lord was up to or where He was wanting me to move… not that I would have been very obedient about coming out of my safe tower. 

Actually, up until recently, I thought that time was predominantly about turning my focus back to Him and learning to have bold faith in the unknown, and that is 100% true but what I didn’t recognize was how He was beginning to restore all my broken bits. The ones that I felt shame and guilt over. The ones I packed away as being too far gone. Even the ones I had forgotten about. A large portion of that I realize now is wrapped up in my identity in Him. A fearfully and wonderfully made daughter of the King with quirks and imperfections. I now see the last five years, especially, have been acts of Him flooding me with His truth to counteract the lies I was told by others, by Satan and by myself. 

I once had a conversation with my therapist where I was frustrated about knowing cognitively that something wasn’t true but still having to fight myself over these “natural” thoughts and she said something that I had not really considered before. She reminded me that I have been accepting these statements as truth for the last 30 years. It’s not like flipping a light switch where it’s all magically turned off. Kind of like when my oldest and dearest friends have gotten married and it takes me a solid two years to be able to call them by their new name. I had called them something else for three decades so of course that’s what comes out first. Our minds kind of work in a similar fashion, with things that we have been fed or have fed into ourselves. That is why our words are so important! Good or bad, they have power and can last far beyond the moment they are spoken. 

This was driven home for me in an experience that was beyond my wildest dreams and seemed like something straight out of a romance novel. I had a man that I absolutely adored whisk me off to a spontaneous lunch on an island with a driver, no less. I know this sounds completely made up but it’s 100% true BUT here’s the thing… 

As we were traveling to our destination, in this completely thoughtful and loving moment that made me swoon, not at the “magic” but at the consideration he had for me in planning it all, I still had an inner monologue telling me that this was a mistake. Clearly, he asked me to come with him because no one else was available. There’s no way a man this attractive and desirable would want me, right? Hadn’t I been told that so many times before? Hadn’t life proved that?

Now, cognitively I knew that wasn’t true because this man was, and is, incredibly independent and it wasn’t like I had tagged along while he grocery shopped. He had gone out of his way to plan something special to share an experience with me that he had talked about for ages. Just like every other thoughtful thing he did, it was for me… as me, not as an afterthought but there was still a bit of imposter syndrome there. How long before the spell breaks and he realizes the mistake he has made? How long before he runs away screaming? Satan knows just what to say and just when to say it and boy was he working overtime that day!

Thank goodness that the Lord provides us with loved ones and professionals who can help us untangle our web of lies. Satan loves keeping us in lies, even trivial ones about beauty and romance, because they lower our value in our own eyes and keep us from boldly pursuing God’s plans and purposes. Luckily, I recognized in that moment what these thoughts were and while they felt real, I knew they weren’t. Yes, part of the joy of that day was overshadowed by an anxious feeling of impending hurt but for the moment, I spoke truth to myself the best I could, and took one step towards the restored version of self the Lord was creating. So what does all of this have to do with driving nine hours to Arkansas to compete in a beauty pageant? 

Well, I knew when I picked/accepted “restoration” for my 2025 word of the year that it would require some comfort zone shifting, former battlefields because how can you restore something without going near it? One of the big areas I asked God to work on was restoring the version of myself I was before I started to believe all the lies. Before junior high I remember feeling free and secure. I enjoyed being creative and curious. I would literally dance like no one was watching and sing at the top of my lungs in the backyard. I would design pageant gowns… yes, really and I didn’t mind being quirky. 

So as I looked toward all the Lord could restore, I wanted her back especially. The free little girl swinging in the backyard with a tiara on her head while singing the Grease soundtrack at the top of her lungs. 

During my hiding years I had found ways to stay involved in pageantry by cheering on friends, recruiting students, coaching beautiful young women and serving on the board of directors for a number of systems. I did, and still do, believe in the power of pageantry… real pageantry. The place where young women gain confidence and experience. Where you can serve alongside other sister queens to reach your community and the world. It’s a place for friendships and to build memories. I’ve always said that if you think a pageant is just a bunch of bimbos on a stage you’ve never been to a real one. 

I’ve had the privilege to watch young women grow from quiet, reserved flowers to bold presences ready to take on the world… women who have made a true difference in the lives of others, while bettering themselves in the process. This has always been the experience I have wanted others to enjoy but have held back from myself. So when I saw a “Miss Ice Queen” pageant come up in my bestie’s hometown, I knew what that meant… the fact that “ice queen” had been a label used to criticize me in the past made it even more obvious that this was what I needed to reclaim as step one on a journey of restoration in 2025.

I mentioned wanting to be brave to some friends and wanting to do this as an area of comfort zone stretching. I love that I said something like, “I think it would be fun to do something like this” and my friend Autumn’s response was, “So are we staying with Meg?” That’s the type of tribe you need. The people that will support and love you and carry your burdens and tape your dress to you and buy you a hamburger. Let me tell you, even if everything had gone down the tubes and I had fallen off the stage, the amount of love I felt from my three “stage moms” was more than enough to give me a restoring boost. They put some of those toddler mamas to shame and I adore them for it!

There is absolutely NOTHING more precious than two toddlers holding hands as friends, while one says, "Cheese!" over and over and the other says, "Thank you! Thank you!" And no, this wasn’t my competition… if it was I wouldn’t have stood a chance!

But truthfully, I approached this moment like going to get your shots as a kid. I was going to do something that scared me but I was going to try to be a big girl about it. I didn’t admit it to the others until I got there but I was relieved to originally see that this was a small system that had few contestants in my division… less competition, right? Safer, right? The Lord, of course, fully intended on me learning my lesson so the numbers went up the night before. With no way to back out after driving 9 hours, I covered my experience in prayer and my head in hairspray and off I went on my adventure.

Can you tell I'm nervous with no circulation in my legs? Ha!

Y’all, it was so much fun! I was nervous for about thirteen seconds, more about my dress falling off than anything, but beyond that it was exactly what I hoped for in my childhood dreams. This system clearly has the right focus because you had babies and kiddos running all over playing with each other and doing princess spins and complimenting each other's dresses. Unfortunately, being a day event, I didn’t get to know the other contestants in my division well but we did get to talk and they were just lovely and beautiful as can be! It was so fun to meet other ladies who have real lives and jobs that were doing this just for fun or because their daughter wanted to do pageants and they could share the experience. I could have come alone and I still would have had cheers in the audience because that was the atmosphere created. It was just precious!

I debated sharing the outcome of the pageant because it isn’t truly relevant to this experience. After all, I wanted to stretch my comfort zone and do something that scared me which I did. I wanted to achieve a childhood dream which I did… being in a pageant, not winning one. And, I wanted to step into the idea of being the main character in my life. I can truly say that I felt 100% like the star of my life that whole weekend… with a bit of imposter syndrome, but I’m still working on that. However, the outcome ended up being just as much of a restoration moment because, of course God would do that. 

Your tribe matters!

So, I won the Grand Supreme title which is not what I expected with so many amazing options on stage who had so much experience but it was the side awards that held a great prize for me… I was awarded “Most Beautiful” which little Bailey could only have dreamed of as she watched friends compete in beauty reviews at school wishing she could be as lovely. However, it was the award for “Best Smile” that shocked me and made me laugh out loud. 

See, my mouth and smile have been commented on for years in both good and bad ways. Lots of comments about how my smile takes up my whole face, how it was so big, a huge mouth, etc. Not all meant negatively but it felt like a fault. It made me nervous to smile too big on picture day or to strive to not “look like the Joker”. I had pushed that concern back and didn’t really consider it all that much anymore though it did come up when I saw pictures where maybe my mouth was just too prominent for my liking. So, in His loving grace, God saw fit to point out the beauty HE created in that smile and all that smile represented… late night laughter, Christmas mornings, chasing my nephew, listening to my students and more. Ultimately, restoring something I had forgotten was even broken because it has been packed away for so long. 

And isn’t that just like Him? Only God can dust off broken bits and dusty dreams from nearly 30 years ago and bring them back to the light to not only use them to restore His truth to your life but to tell His story for His glory to others. I read a statement recently in “She Reads Truth” devotion from their Bible that says, “When facing the world, we’re ashamed of our image, God-given though it is. When facing God, we’re ashamed of our sin…” And I guess I had never considered how Satan warps and twists our very unique God-given design to make us ashamed of it in front of others. Definitely a new perspective I will carry into 2025. I’m not sure what else the next eleven months will hold but if January is any sign, this is going to be quite the testimony!