By Peyton Wilson
I stood under the lights of a high-school auditorium in the middle of Tennessee, squatting and trying to decide whether to cry or laugh as my predecessor placed what I believed to be one of the most beautiful crowns in the world on my head. It was a moment of sheer elation. Just the year before, she and I had talked about the time we would spend together at our state’s pageant, but as preliminary season had come to a close, I was left without a crown and the chance to vie for the job of my dreams: Miss Tennessee. It made the moment even sweeter to know the young woman that crowned me the very next year was also my friend, and like me, she had competed several times before she won her prelim. Me? Well, I competed ten times. A lot of people would have given up after only once or twice, but I didn’t. From the time I was fifteen years old, my dream had been to compete in and hopefully win the pageant when the time was right. Let me tell you why.
When I was twelve, I had no control over my body. My face would twitch and I would make these noises I still can’t really explain. I would go to bed every night completely exhausted, because my eyes would be so tired from the amount of blinking I did, and going to sleep was a massive struggle, because I started having these intense rituals I would have to pursue before finally letting myself be relieved with rest. When I went to the doctor, I was told that the disorder I had was Tourette’s Syndrome. I thought, there’s no way. I didn’t have a problem cussing and I didn’t hit people at random. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized just how right my doctor was. The signs had always been there; we had just waited that long to find the root of the problem. I had never felt less beautiful, and I created my own shell to hide in, doing what I could to avoid people in order to avoid adversity.
That’s why people were surprised when I signed myself up for a pageant. I honestly don’t know what possessed me to do it. I would almost say it was divine intervention. Time passed and I decided I wanted to do our local fair pageant. We were directed by two blonde women who later became great friends and mentors for me. With their help, I placed fourth-runner-up in the pageant, and felt beautiful for the first time in a long time. They encouraged me to compete further and led me to the Miss America Organization.
I think every little girl wants to be Miss America at some point. She’s the ideal woman—beautiful, poised, and smart. Surely there was no way I fit the bill. I was the Tourette’s Girl. I was a band geek, a comic book nerd, and not someone who could compete for Miss Tennessee. I spent the next few years preparing to compete and finally got the chance to “apply for the job” when I was seventeen. I fell so in love with it that I competed ten times before finally being awarded the opportunity to work towards the role I had been dreaming about.
But why did I love it so much? Behind the glitz and the glamour, Miss America is a real woman. Yes, she is beautiful, poised, as well as intelligent, but what so many people fail to realize is that the women that have become Miss Americas all started out in the same place as I stand today—as girls with dreams that may seem a little big for their heels. Heather Whitestone was deaf. Laura Kaeppeler’s father was incarcerated. Like many before me, this amazing organization has encouraged me to speak out and let the world hear my story instead of silencing my voice.
Miss America is able to sit on the floor and talk to children as well as the President. She is encouraged to walk in Scholarship, Style, Success and Service, by being a volunteer and serving her community. As part of the leading scholarship organization in the world, I am proud to say I am able to pursue a higher degree someday.
Every time I didn’t win, I still walked away a winner. With every failure, I learned how to gain success. Was I ever discouraged? Of course, but in my entire time competing, I never doubted one thing: I had found an organization that believed in me. As a local titleholder, I have learned to embrace my challenges, because they have made me who I am today. There have been times when I’ve talked to school children about my disorder only to find out I was talking to a child that was struggling with the same challenges. Those are the moments that make me realize that even as a local titleholder, I am somebody’s Miss America.
Miss Tennessee has given me an entirely new outlook on my life. I’ve gained so much confidence to be the young woman I dream to be, thanks to the support of my family, the friends I have made, the organization and a director who always encourages me to reach for greatness. Of course, going to the gym twice a day, having to skip over that cake I love, constantly reading up on currents events and fitting after fitting can be sort of overwhelming, but at the end of the day, it will all be worth it. This is my dream we’re talking about.
The state pageant is next month and I may or may not win. I may never win another prelim after this, but the experiences and the friendships I’ve made make me a winner. At nineteen, I’m able to say I’m chasing after a chance not many women can say they do. It’s all because of the hard work, perseverance and the passion I have for this organization. You may or may not believe in pageants—and that is totally okay. But the fact that this organization made me realize I am more than my disorder has me sold.