My Mother-in-Law Challenged My Beauty, So I Entered a Beauty Pageant to Claim the Crown

My mother-in-law never quite approved of me. Every encounter with her was peppered with subtle digs and outright critiques that left me feeling awkward and inadequate. However, one day her usual criticisms crossed a line that spurred me into unexpected action. Gertrude bluntly stated I was not pretty enough for her son, prompting me to enter a beauty contest. Yet, even in that space, she found ways to undermine me.

David and I were newlyweds, basking in the glow of our honeymoon and the early days of marital bliss. Unfortunately, my relationship with my mother-in-law, Gertrude, was far less harmonious. She constantly critiqued everything about me, never missing an opportunity to point out my flaws.

One evening, during a family dinner, Gertrude’s remarks were particularly sharp.

“Grace, dear, perhaps next time you could try adding some thyme to the soup? It might elevate the flavor,” she suggested with a tone that dripped with condescension.

I managed a strained smile. “I’ll remember that, Gertrude.”

David, generally unaware of the undercurrents, chimed in supportively, “I think the soup is wonderful as it is, Grace.”

Gertrude’s eyes narrowed slightly in disapproval.

“And the way you’ve laid out the dinner plates, it could certainly be more elegant. Oh, and that shade of lipstick really isn’t doing you any favors, my dear.”

Suppressing the urge to react, I simply nodded. “I’ll take your suggestions into consideration.”

David, distracted as usual by his work, excused himself. “Pardon me, ladies, I need to check on some urgent business correspondence,” he said, leaving the table.

Once he was out of earshot, Gertrude’s facade of politeness dropped.

“Grace, you should really understand that you’re just not beautiful enough for my son,” she said bluntly.

Her words were a visceral blow, leaving me speechless. I excused myself from the table and retreated to my atelier, my sanctuary where I pursued my passion for designing and sewing clothes. Gertrude had always looked down on my creative endeavors, dismissing them as trivial and unbecoming for someone of her son’s stature.

While in my studio, heart heavy, my eyes fell upon an invitation to a beauty contest that a friend was organizing. In a moment of defiance fueled by Gertrude’s harsh words, I decided to sign up, hoping to prove my worth both to her and to myself.

The subsequent weeks were a whirlwind. David was incredibly supportive when I told him about my decision to compete.

“Grace, I think it’s a fantastic idea,” he encouraged. “You should definitely do it for yourself.”

Buoyed by his support, I threw myself into the preparations. I attended workshops, went through rigorous training, and rehearsed tirelessly. The contestants were housed together in a hotel, isolated from outside influences, which was an intense experience. Among the competitors was Chloe, known for her ruthlessness in pursuit of victory, often at the expense of others’ feelings.

One incident involved Chloe ‘accidentally’ spilling a fellow contestant’s makeup, ruining her preparations. Despite such challenges, I made friends, like Emma, whom I helped with a wardrobe malfunction, and Katie, who confided her anxieties about performing.

“Grace, are you ready for tomorrow?” Katie asked during one of our chats in the auditorium.

“I think so,” I responded. “I’m presenting a clothing collection I’ve designed. It’s simple but meaningful, aimed at everyday people.”

“That’s really wonderful, Grace. You’re bringing something unique to this competition.”