Miss Universe 2012 Olivia Culpo is twenty years old. She’s conventionally beautiful and highly musically talented, and now, she’s (according to the Miss Universe pageant) the world’s most beautiful woman.
I’m twenty years old as well. I’m a few inches shorter than the average woman. I’ve worn glasses since the third grade, and they’ve become a part of who I am. I’m intelligent, law school bound (hopefully) and have been told I have a cute smile. I’ve even rocked some fancy gowns and sky-high heels without a problem. But frankly, I wasn’t born looking like a Barbie doll. I’d say I’m moderately pretty, but not jaw-dropping hot-damn bombshell gorgeous. I joke around sometimes that I’m at the perfect age to start getting into some pageants, but let’s be real, a girl like me wouldn’t make it beside all those suntanned, leggy blondes who’ve been taking ballet lessons since they could crawl.
Is it time I hang up my dream of being a princess?
I know I’ll never wear a Miss USA sash or have Donald Trump balance a jeweled tiara on my head–though, okay, missing out on Donald Trump isn’t a concern whatsoever. But, here’s the thing: people say you should never give up on your dreams. What do we do when those dreams are actually, truly impossible to reach? And is it right for a girl to cling blindly and desperately to that dream, or is it better to let it go?
The fact that I’ll never be a pageant queen isn’t killing me, per se. But it does make me wonder if there will ever be other dreams that I’ll have to stop believing in, other figurative tiaras and sashes that will have to be hidden in the back of a closet, to be forgotten forever. It’s a little frightening to think about.