From Pageants to Purpose: What Competing Taught Me About Rejection, Resilience, and Real Life 👑
- Donna Baines
- 7 days ago
- 4 min read
When I first entered the Mrs. Gloucester County pageant, it wasn’t about the crown. It was about the cause. It was the beginning of a new decade that would take me from being the victim of trauma to a victor with a mission.
As a mother of a child who battled a rare and life-threatening illness, I was looking for a way to raise awareness, share our story, and give voice to families navigating the unpredictable world of rare diseases. I needed a platform louder than my personal social media and more visible than my day-to-day work. Pageantry, surprisingly, was the answer.
Assuming the local title of Mrs. Gloucester County gave me an entry point. Becoming Mrs. New Jersey opened an entire new world.
But here’s what most people don’t realize: Competing in a pageant—especially at the state and national levels—isn’t all gowns and glitter. It’s grueling. It requires preparation, self-reflection, and the ability to articulate who you are, what you stand for, and what change you want to make in the world. Sound familiar? It should. It’s a lot like applying to college.
When I attended nationals in Las Vegas, I was competing for the job of Mrs. American. This title was held by Hannah Neeleman, famously known as @ballerinafarm on Instagram with over ten million followers. Hannah, is a Juilliard-trained ballerina and mother of eight who, along with her husband Daniel, operates a 328-acre farm in Utah. Her platform was centered on knowing where your food comes from and promoting healthy organic options. Despite being associated with the "trad wife" movement, which emphasizes traditional homemaking roles, Hannah does not fully embrace this label. Hannah is an entrepreneur, pageant queen, mother, chef, farmer, ballerina and so much more. It was during one of the most important parts of the pageant that I had an up close and personal encounter with Mrs. Neeleman. She was prepping the state title holders for their round-robin style interviews with five judges. I had hired a pageant coach, also a former Mrs. America, who thoroughly prepared me for this moment. But, as I sat only 18 inches across from Hannah and she gently bounced and rocked her infant daughter Flora Jo, I became entranced. Her essence was so captivating that it was clear motherhood is her favorite title. As she gave us instructions for how we should greet the judges when we entered the room she instructed us to stand sideways for a few seconds so they could observe our profile. As she spoke, I envisioned her competing only a year earlier, with little Flora Jo in tow and backstage breastfeeding. It was a moment of gratitude and humility where I had a eureka moment that winning a crown wasn’t everything. I had already won in the game of life with a loving husband and three beautiful, HEALTHY daughters. Being distracted by my thoughts and her beautiful baby I failed to listen and closely follow instructions when greeting judges. Instead of giving them time to give me the up-and-down profile looks, I went straight in for the handshake and sat down. I repeated my fumble at every table with all five judges and my group all giggled at my clumsiness. My interviews went great and I made positive connections with each judge, but I am certain my failure to follow directions cost me points. Lesson learned: pay attention to details and follow directions carefully!
So how is applying for college or a career like pageantry?
Well, you build a platform (your major), complete applications and paperwork (resumes, statements, forms), prepare for interviews and stand before a panel hoping they see in you what you already know is there: Potential. Drive. Purpose.
I didn’t enter pageantry to win. I entered to sharpen skills I use daily as a professional: public speaking, presentation, clarity of message, and confidence under pressure. I also did it to become a better coach for my students applying to college—because it’s one thing to teach strategy, and another to live it.
Here’s where the journey gets real: obviously I didn’t win the national title. I walked off that stage not wearing a crown, but carrying something more valuable—perspective.
Not winning didn’t mean I wasn’t worthy. Not winning didn’t mean my story wasn’t powerful. Not winning didn’t mean I wasn’t good enough. And this, too, mirrors college admissions. So many students pour their hearts into applications, only to receive a "no." It’s easy to internalize that as failure.
But rejection isn't failure. It’s redirection.
Sometimes the lesson isn’t about getting the “yes.” Sometimes the greatest growth comes from the “no.”
Competing helped me uncover the same things I want my students to find in themselves—resilience, authenticity, and the courage to show up fully, even when the outcome is uncertain. I had to learn to celebrate the experience, not just the accolade. I had to redefine success—not as being chosen, but as choosing to keep going, to keep building, to keep showing up for my mission.
For me, that mission was always about more than a sash. It was about being a voice for families affected by rare disease. It was about showing my daughters that vulnerability and strength can exist in the same space. And it was about proving to myself that I could evolve—at any age, on any stage.
To the young people applying to college, to the women wondering if they still have something to offer beyond their comfort zones, to the parents who feel stretched thin and unseen—this journey was for you.
The stage just gave me a way to be louder.
And as for the crown? I never needed it. The real win was becoming the woman who showed up for herself, for her cause, and for her dreams—regardless of who said yes.




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Donna Baines
Baines College Consulting, LLC
Donna has 20 years of college admissions and financial aid experience. She has helped thousands of high school students all over the United States with their college and career goals.
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