Crowning Moment
When you’re in the Philippines, you can always tell when a beauty pageant is happening — not necessarily because you follow them religiously, but because everyone around you suddenly does. I admittedly spent most of last Friday watching Miss Universe instead of reviewing for my English final, and on the way to

By Eliza Bellones
By Eliza Bellones
When you’re in the Philippines, you can always tell when a beauty pageant is happening — not necessarily because you follow them religiously, but because everyone around you suddenly does. I admittedly spent most of last Friday watching Miss Universe instead of reviewing for my English final, and on the way to school, I found myself explaining the pageant to my Korean friend instead of cramming last-minute. She listened, genuinely curious, and asked: “Why are beauty pageants such a big deal to Filipinos?”
For a moment, I didn’t really know how to respond. Beauty pageants feel like so much more than a contest to us Filipinos — it’s tradition and pride beyond the crown. You see it everywhere: in school programs, in barangay fiestas, even in small events where someone inevitably gets crowned “Miss Something.” If you’re Filipino, you don’t really choose to grow up around pageants; they just exist around you. It’s one of those things that’s so deeply embedded within our daily lives, we don’t completely realize how much we glorify them.
But I think the bigger reason Filipinos are so hooked on pageants is because they give us something to root for. Now more than ever, our people need a silver lining. The news is exhausting, the future is uncertain, and everyone online seems to be arguing about something. So when there’s one of our own walking confidently on a world stage, it feels like a breather. She becomes a kind of collective hope — a reminder that Filipinos can still thrive despite the circumstances we live in.
Part of what makes that hope so powerful is that Filipinos are rarely represented to that extent on the international stage. We don’t always see our culture, our language, our faces, or our stories highlighted in movies, global politics, or big media events. Pageants are one of the few arenas where the world pauses and notices us. When our candidate steps forward, it feels like we’re finally seen. And when she wins or even just makes it to the top, pride sweeps through the country. For once, nearly everyone is celebrating the same thing.
But if I’m being honest, watching pageants as a young person can be complicated. There’s this pressure in the background — the idea that beauty should look a certain way, confidence should seem effortless, success should look glamorous. And I know a lot of people my age feel like they’ll never measure up. Even if you don’t plan to compete, the images, expectations, and social media commentary seep into your sense of self-worth. The same event that sparks hope can also make you question if you belong in the story of success it celebrates.
But even with that pressure, I think there’s a way to approach pageants that’s empowering rather than intimidating. Instead of measuring ourselves against an ideal, we can use them as a reminder of what’s possible when someone works hard, believes in themselves, and takes a chance on their dreams. Pageants celebrate more than looks — they celebrate discipline, courage, resilience, and the ability to represent something bigger than yourself.
As young people, we can take that lesson into our own lives. We don’t need a crown to prove our worth; we just need the confidence to pursue what matters to us, the courage to step into new opportunities, and the persistence to keep going even when it feels like the world is watching. In that sense, pageants aren’t just about spectacle — they’re a spark, a source of motivation to chase our own version of success and to shine in the ways that matter most to us.
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