From pageantry to poverty. From Miss America to Miss World Race. From curling my hair every morning to leaving it in a braid for a whole week unwashed. From spending my money on gas to get to events to spending my money on Uber's to get to Wifi. In the past four years, my life has changed DRASTICALLY. I competed in the Miss America Organization for three years, graduated college in three and a half then left to be a full-time missionary in eleven countries for eleven months. My mom told me people ask how I went from "pageantry to poverty" so quickly… the answer is, you missed the point on everything I was doing while being a titleholder for the past three years.

The Miss America Organization (disregarding its current state) is community service based. I was clocking 600 hours each year in appearances, events, volunteering hours, and overall working for the next title of Miss Arizona. That is not me trying to brag about what I had accomplished in my years of being a titleholder, but trying to show everyone how much of an unpaid full-time job being one really is.

Many people didn't or still don't understand. They think it's this glamorous position that is only photoshoots and swimsuits, but I'm here to set the record straight. Without going into all the details about swimsuit being eliminated from Miss America this past year, even before, I was more focused on overall health and stability. That's the whole point of it, are you taking care of yourself? Are you doing what doctors have been telling us to do like eating healthy and being active? Would you be a good role model for children who look up to you and copy every action you do? Because kids do that, I do that!

As for photoshoots, I probably did maybe one or two a year. One for headshots for the next competition and maybe a fun one if I felt like paying for it. I remember doing a couple of events with no makeup and my hair in a bun, I remember doing events where I was building homes really early in the morning after a night of being in high heels presenting awards. The job varies and if people truly tried to see both sides, being on the World Race right now wouldn't be a surprise and wanting to come home and compete again wouldn't be surprising either. I don't know if I will. I have to learn how to be an adult first, but the main point is, it all goes together.

Even people on my current squad that are with me serving did not know how I would be as a person because of all the stereotypes that pageants are given. My first day at our training camp, I showed up with lash extensions and fake nails. I showed up with never having put up a tent or slept outside. But did I do everything I was told? Yes. Did I bucket shower during the middle of winter in Georgia outside? Yes. Did I eat all the weird foods and try weird activities to practice for each culture I was going to experience? Yes. Was that one of the most spiritually challenging but best weeks of my life? Of course. Did I come home and work a pageant literally the next day and continue on like it was another day in the life? You betcha.

To all my past supporters, family, and friends, thanks for doing life with me no matter what crazy thing I wanted to do next. Thanks for donating to children's hospitals during each pageant and now venmo-ing me money so I can eat more than just yogurt and fruit on the World Race (missionary budgets are like that sometimes). Thanks for wanting to stay updated on what city title I was each year and now wanting to stay updated on what country I am in each month. I hope you know, service was the main point of my life for the past five years and still is regardless of what city or country I am in.

Now here I am in my month four out of eleven months of being away from home, eating curry with my right hand in India, learning how to use a squatty-potty and downsizing the only heavy pack I was allowed to bring. Am I still the girl with the curled hair and crown? Yes. Am I currently wearing the crown of being the daughter of the Lord instead? Yep. I never truly lost my crown, I just decided to wear another one.