“You have to be undeniable.” Undeniable? That word rattled in my head, scattering from point to point, hurting my brain more than those four-inch heels were hurting my feet. After hours spent presenting in front of judges, pushing my body and brain to their limit, hoping my posture was correct and my answers perfectly imperfect, I stared back at my mother who had just uttered these words.
2015 marked the start of my pageant journey. My mother and grandmother always recounted their times together watching pageants, their self-proclaimed “Super Bowl,” with vast admiration. They thought of pageants as confidence creators that unify women for social change that might have otherwise divided them.
As a child, my mother dreamed of competing in pageants, so I carried out her wish that she didn’t get to. At 13-years-old, I competed in my 1st pageant, Jr. Miss West Coast pageant, placing within the top five. As I delved deeper into this world, I fell in love with what the contestants and the organizations represented. The organization, empowering women to be at the forefront of societal change, allowed each contestant to focus on individual platforms highlighting the importance of not only one issue but a variety of issues being experienced by the world.
My platform focused on teaching others to “never make a temporary decision permanent,” a message aimed at ending teen suicide, which arose based on the various mental health issues apparent in teens. I worked closely with the “weRpossible” Project, a nonprofit media organization promoting suicide prevention, mental health advocacy and anti-bullying, eventually becoming a board member for the project. Being a board member helped me be a light for those who felt alone or in the dark.
My vehicle for amplifying the voice of the weRpossible Project meant a crown on my head, a sash across my body and a large flower bouquet. At 14, I won my first title, Miss Jr Teen South Bay. I worked to make a difference throughout my community and worked with meaningful organizations. After aging out of the Jr. teen division, I took pageantry further and competed for the teen division. My many attempts at triumph in multiple teen pageants were met with the consoling mini bouquet. I walked out of the arena for multiple pageants with my head down, defeated.
The fourth runner-up is Alana Morgan, the third is Alana Morgan; the second is Alana Morgan, and so on. Those announcements weighed on me. Could I even win a teen title, walking away with the large flower bouquet, the crown, the sash and the chance to be a prominent voice for suicide prevention? These thoughts altered my mindset, ensuring I would still lose even if I were the most prepared. I competed at my state pageant representing my city of Beverly Hills, where I held the title of Miss Beverly Hills Teen USA, placing top 20 at Miss California Teen USA.
At this point, the word undeniable began to float around the conversations with my mother. “To be the greatest, you cannot give those judges any reason to deny you the crown. You must be completely undeniable, with no flaw in sight, no pause when answering their questions and no trip to your steps,” she’d say. My mother’s words were at the forefront of my next pageant, leading me straight to my Miss Teen California US win. This state title propelled me to the Miss Teen Universe USA competition in the United Emirates, allowing me to bring my platform to the world.
My journey towards my undeniability, initially pushed by my passion for voicing my platform, now surrounds every step I take. Undeniability is in every interview I lead, every word I speak to the prominent figures at the ESPYS and BET awards and every question I ask the athletes and entrepreneurs surrounding the platforms I currently support. My desire to be undeniable, which prompted the start of my clothing line, now encourages others to share the stories of their own undeniability, turning failures into success just as I strived to do.