Presence Over Perfection: Showing Up Is the Crown

Last month, I stepped back into a world I thought I had left behind: the pageant stage.

Years ago, I competed in Caribbean pageants, smiled for cameras, collected titles, and learned the sport of pageantry. But this time was different. When I zipped up my gown and looked in the mirror, I wasn’t chasing a title, and I wasn’t hoping to prove anything to anyone. What I felt instead was a calm voice inside me saying that I belonged. And not because of the sash, but because I have finally come to know who I am and trust myself.

Competing in Miss New York USA was a choice I made with clear vision. I put “Top 20” on my list of goals, but my deeper intention was presence. I wanted to feel the fullness of the journey, from every rehearsal to every conversation to every moment on stage. I didn’t want to rush through the experience, hoping for a crown and missing the gift of being there.

This time, I’ve learned more than ever that pageantry has a way of stretching you. It asks you to speak about your purpose with conviction and teaches you to walk with strength even when it’s hard to do so. It reminds you that confidence isn’t about being louder or shinier than the woman next to you, but about standing tall in your own story.

I didn’t finish with a Top 20 placement, and yes, that was disappointing. Hard work often comes with the expectation of visible rewards. However, I’ve learned that the results we desire don’t always align with the outcomes we truly need. Perhaps the effort we’ve invested is laying the groundwork for something greater...it is not in vain.

As I stepped off the stage, I realized I wasn’t leaving empty-handed. I carried with me laughter in rehearsals and hotel lobbies, exchanged tears, formed new friendships, and strengthened my sense of resilience. Most importantly, I had become the version of myself who showed up not to impress or perform, but to be fully present and unapologetically myself.

The journey doesn’t end here. In fact, I plan on returning and not just for the possibility of hearing my name in the Top 20, but for the next generation of women watching, for my community, and for the younger version of myself who once thought her time had passed.

The greatest lesson in all of this is that the real crown isn’t something placed on your head. It’s something you grow into. And last month, I realized I’m already wearing it.