Over the years, there's been talk of eliminating the swimsuit portion of competition from the Miss America system and its affiliated pageants. Protestors have claimed that this section, which counts 15 percent of the contestant's total score, is demeaning to women. The argument has been made that no young woman should parade around in a bikini in order to obtain scholarship money. The argument continues that any woman who wants to assume the position and responsibility of being a role model to young girls should have more respect for herself than to obtain this role through the use of her body.
To all of these protestors, I say, I used to agree with you. Before competing in the Miss America system, I found this section of competition to be barbaric and archaic. I could acknowledge that the history of the Miss America pageant was first rooted in a swimsuit only competition, but I could not believe that decades later the system was still allowing this to go on. I could never imagine myself on stage wearing only two very small pieces of fabric. No way. That would never be for me.
Two years and some butt glue later, I found myself in a "Miss Congeniality" moment, anxiously awaiting behind a stage curtain for my turn to prance around on stage in those two very small pieces of fabric that I once scoffed at. I found myself laughing at the irony before me, but I also found myself terrified of the idea that I was about to embark on a minute and a half journey that would ultimately change my life. As I hit my first mark in those two very small pieces of fabric, I could feel the light shining down on me and the surge of adrenaline pouring through my body. In that moment, I immediately renounced every ill feeling of the swimsuit competition that I ever had. In that moment, it was no longer about those pieces of fabric, instead, that moment was about finding the assurance and confidence with myself to be satisfied with my body.
For so long I felt shame and disgust when I looked in the mirror, but in that moment on stage, I finally felt beautiful. I was in my most vulnerable state, but I never remember feeling more proud or alive than I did standing in front of hundreds of people in a swim suit. After struggling with body issues and gaining a significant amount of weight over the course of 2 years, I was so ashamed at what others would think of my new body. That night taught me, though, that this is my body and whether people praise it or mock it, it is my temple. I learned to love myself that night and all it took were two tiny pieces of fabric.
I am not a size two. I do not have a thigh gap. I do not have a flat stomach. I do, however, have the confidence to know that there is nothing wrong with not having those attributes. If not for the Miss America system having the swimsuit portion of competition, I may never have found this peace and satisfaction with my body. I may have never been able to look at young girls and say, "No one can make you feel ashamed for your body without your permission." So, instead of bashing the swimsuit portion of competition, I wish to thank it. Thank you for allowing me to embark on the journey towards realizing: I am enough.
