Beauty Pageants Are Not For Overweight 12 Year Olds
I was never a competitive person throughout elementary school and middle school. If I placed fifth or one hundred and fifth, I could care less. But I quickly realized, the career path I was marching down was an extremely competitive one. I felt if I didn’t push to be the best or want to be number one, I wouldn’t make it anywhere. Tough lifestyles equal tough skin.
At the age of twelve, I signed up for my first Talent Competition. Talent America. It was a nation wide talent show. But It was more of a beauty pageant than anything else.
(Let’s get one thing clear before I continue. I was never a skinny kid. I was the first girl in my grade to have curves, and I grew out of limited too at the age of 7. Beauty pageants were not the best thing for an overweight 12 year old. But I went for it anyway.)
I showed up in New York with my family, and my cousin Andrea (who is also a singer, a great one at that) and her mom. We had our karaoke disks and our classy dresses from Macy’s and waited to perform. Dance act after Dance act, Model after Model and Singer after singer. We waited for hours just to get to step on the stage in front of casting agencies, and talent scouts. Andrea went first performing her version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow… like every other girl there. And walked off. I was waiting in the wing. I was on next. I was nervous, but I knew if the judges liked her, they’d like me because she hadn’t fully matured yet. I walked out, and started my version of At Last by Etta James. I was the only kid to perform that song, and I thought I was original and stood out against the other girls. So I finished my song. Stepped back from the mic and gave my final bow to the audience.
I remember this day, extremely well. I woke up, and walked down the stairs to start our last day in the competition. All the acts had to perform a dance number so we prepared our dance. I have two left feet when it comes to dancing and so let’s just say I made a complete fool out of myself in front of EVERYONE. I was the only girl there who couldn’t keep up. Dancing isn’t what I came here to do. I came here to sing.
We sat down in the back room and waiting to get called out to see who won the competition. I was nervous. There were so many pretty girls, dressed upto the nines, perfect tans, perfect make-up, and perfect hair. And there I was, 12 years old, a little chubby, very little make-up, hair a little frizzy and not so tan. I didn’t fit in. AT ALL. I was the odd man out, and I didn’t like it.
I was called up to the stage, standing next to Andrea, and five other girls. We were all waiting to see who won first place. Time seemed to stand still when they were announcing the winner. I stood there breathing slowly and eyes gazed over. They finally claimed the winner, but, unfortunately, It wasn’t me.
For the first time in my life, I knew what It was like to not make the cut. I wasn’t the best. I wasn’t what the talent scouts wanted. I wasn’t a star. Not that day at least. I didn’t get a single call backs. Not a single agency showed interest in me. I was devastated, and started to question my ability as a singer. And also started questioning my appearance. I knew I wasn’t the skinniest girl in the world. But, I knew I had a that something that made me stand out. Which was my voice.
I cried the entire way home. It wasn’t because I didn’t get first place, and It wasn’t because I didn’t get a call back. It was because I thought my dream was over because I wasn’t the perfect image. However, I was never going to let shallow people like that stop me from being happy. I was going to prove them wrong. I just knew it.
