My MIL Thought I Was Not Beautiful Enough for Her Son, So I Entered a Beauty Contest to Win the Crown — Story of the Day

David and I had recently returned from our honeymoon, and our life together was filled with love and happiness. However, my mother-in-law, Gertrude, never took me seriously.

She criticized me constantly, no matter what I did. Even that evening, during dinner, she found faults in everything.

“Grace, dear, have you ever tried seasoning the soup with thyme? It would improve the flavor significantly,” Gertrude’s tone dripping with condescension.

I forced a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, Gertrude.”

David, oblivious to the tension, looked up from his plate and said, “I think the soup is perfect, Grace.”

Gertrude’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“The presentation of the food on the plates could be more refined. And that lipstick, my dear, it really doesn’t suit your skin tone.”

I bit my lip, trying to maintain my composure.

“I’ll consider that next time,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks flush.

David, as usual, didn’t notice the tension. He was often lost in his business thoughts.

“Sorry, ladies, I have to check my email. I’m expecting an important letter,” he added, apologizing as he left.

Once he was gone, Gertrude turned to me, her smile vanishing.

“Grace, you must understand. You’re not beautiful enough for my son.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt a lump form in my throat but managed to nod.

Without saying a word, I left the hose and retreated to my small atelier, a place that brought me immense joy.

Designing and sewing clothes was my passion, but even this, Gertrude belittled, considering it an undignified occupation for someone in her family.

As I sat there, feeling dejected, I noticed an invitation from a friend to a beauty contest she was organizing. I picked it up, reading the details.

Despite my doubts, I decided to enter. I needed to prove my worth, not just to Gertrude, but to myself.

***

The following weeks were a whirlwind of activity. When I first told David about entering the beauty contest, he was incredibly supportive.

“Grace, I think it’s a great idea,” he said, holding my hands. “You should do it for yourself.”

His encouragement gave me the strength I needed to go through with it. I underwent intensive training, attended workshops, and participated in rehearsals.

All the contestants lived together in a hotel, cut off from their families, only interacting with each other. Many of the girls were envious and willing to do anything to win, like Chloe, who often sabotaged others.

One morning, I saw Chloe “accidentally” knock over a fellow contestant’s makeup bag, scattering its contents everywhere.

“Oops, sorry!”

Despite this, I quickly made friends and impressed everyone with my kindness.

“Grace, you’re a lifesaver,” said Emma, another contestant, as I helped her fix a ripped dress.

“It’s nothing, really,” I replied with a smile. “We’re all in this together, right?”

During a rehearsal, I had a heartfelt conversation with Katie, a contestant I had befriended. We sat in a quiet corner of the auditorium, watching others practice. Chloe was listening as always.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Katie asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

“I think so,” I replied. “I’m going to present a clothing collection I designed. It’s created for everyday wear.”

“That’s amazing, Grace. You’re not just competing; you’re making a difference.”

“Thanks, Katie. What about you? What’s your talent performance?”

“I’m going to sing,” she said with a shy smile. “I’ve always loved singing, but I’ve never performed in front of such a large audience before.”

“You’ll be great,” I assured her. “You’ve got an incredible voice.”

***

Later that evening, I was in my hotel room, organizing my outfits for the next day, when there was a knock on the door. It was my friend, Lily, who had invited me to the contest.

“Hey, Grace,” she said, glancing around the room. “How are you doing? How’s the preparation going?”

“Hi! I’m a bit nervous, but everything is coming together. Thanks again, Lily, for inviting me to this contest. It means a lot.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” she said warmly. “Actually, I need you to sign some documents regarding your participation. Do you have a pen?”

“Sure, let me find one for you,” I said, turning to my desk.

When I turned back, I saw Lily quickly stepping away from my wardrobe, trying to act casual.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks,” she took a pen, her eyes avoiding mine. She handed me the documents, and I noticed her hands trembling slightly.

I decided not to comment on her actions. Instead, I took the documents and signed them politely.

“All done,” I said, handing them back to her.

“Great,” she said, forcing a smile. “Good luck tomorrow, Grace. I know you’ll shine.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I appreciate your support.”

We exchanged pleasantries, and she left the room quickly. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but I had no time to dwell on it.

I hung the garment bag with my dress in the wardrobe and decided to get some rest. As I lay in bed, thoughts of the contest swirled in my mind.

I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.

***

The day of the contest arrived, and everything was going well. The air buzzed with excitement as contestants performed their talents, singing, dancing, and displaying their unique skills.

When my turn came, I presented my clothing collection, each piece crafted with care and dedication. I took a moment to steady my nerves and began to speak.

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Grace, and I have a deep love for designing and sewing clothes. Tonight, I want to share with you a collection that is very close to my heart.”

I gestured to the models wearing my designs as they walked across the stage. Each outfit was unique, showcasing my skills and creativity. The audience watched intently, their eyes following every detail.

“I have always believed that fashion should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their circumstances,” I continued.

“That’s why my dream is to use my talent to help those in need. I want to create beautiful, affordable clothing for families who cannot afford high-end fashion. These clothes you’re seeing tonight are part of that vision.”

The audience began to murmur, clearly moved by my words. I pressed on.

“Every piece in this collection will be donated to families who need them the most. It’s my way of giving back to the community and making a difference, one stitch at a time. Fashion is not just about looking good; it’s about knowing that someone cares.”

As I finished speaking, the models lined up for a final walk. The audience stood up, clapping and cheering, and my heart swelled with pride and joy.

David and Gertrude came to congratulate me. David handed me a beautiful bouquet of pink peonies.

“You were amazing, Grace,” he said, giving me a warm hug.

“Thanks, David.”

Gertrude, however, leaned in and whispered in my ear:

“Don’t celebrate too soon. This contest isn’t meant for someone like you.”

Her words stung, but I forced a smile and thanked them both.

Backstage, the emotions of the day caught up with me. But I couldn’t let Gertrude’s words break me. I pulled myself together.