Pageant&Anxiety: a real struggle.

Pageantry is my only and main hobby. I absolutely love it. However it’s not a simple and peaceful union for this individual. Unfortunately as much as I wish it didn’t mental health pays a huge role in my life, and it’s always the devilish role.

It’s really not a good thing, if you can’t think of a positive notion mental health has added to your life. Could that be a reason as to why mental health is so stigmatised, because it is known to be a negative notion. What isn’t great for myself personally is the link that my mental health has on my hobby.

The irony of the shy introverted girl who loves the pageant stage, even if it doesn’t seem it, because of how I seem. I am the girl who dreamt of being a catwalk model since she was 5 years old, yet never achieved that official due to height restrictions. I used to put on pretend fashion shows in my mum’s back yard, as well as practice a straight catwalk along the garden path. So pageantry feels like a natural fit. Or so you would think.

However, courtesy of my mind, after every single pageant I compete in, no matter the outcome. Not how hard I worked in the run up to the pageant finals. I also do not control it, because I am always so proud of my personal pageant journey, and all I achieve as a finalist. I am also way too happy for my fellow sisters who competed too. I follow all journeys and get so proud of everyone! So it really upsets me when people think my post pageant breakdowns, are rude or bad sportsmanship. I can assure you it’s not.

During the breakdown, it’s a cycle of thoughts including:

  • Wasn’t good enough, you may of improved but you did not improve enough.
  • Never going to be good enough, imposter syndrome.
  • Only awarded in a pity way.
  • Feeling sorry, for not seemingly to improve enough, more pity.

That on a cycle going around and around is not easy to handle. Hence why 9 times out of 10, I retreat to my safe space, and look after myself first. It’s never because of jealousy or being a sore loser. It’s preserving myself. It’s not a fun battle to have, and a hard one with the pressure of people thinking it’s bad sportsmanship. It’s very hard to get out of but also sadly a very public one.

Ending on a positive note, as I continue to navigate this battle, it will make finally prevailing because of my improvements and hard work, all the more worth it.

‘Your Dream is Achievable’


Depression shouldn’t be taboo. 🖤💚

In light of recent news, of another passing away, early before their time, Caroline Flack (Rest In Peace). I feel like this blog post is very important. Not only to share my story, but also to show others there is support out there, even if you feel alone. Mental health, depression and suicide should not be taboo. There should be more support for anyone in those dark times. As well as some sort of regulations against cyber bullying, media and press hounding and any encouragement to this extreme. The fact that it’s 2020 and this is still happening, without a care in the world, is disgusting.

I’m going to share my story. Which I have kept inside for 10 years +, and people reading this, will only just be hearing about this. But as they say, you’ll never forget your first, in this case your first suicidal thoughts/attempts.

Now I know loads of people hated their school years, and I’m no different. I absolutely hated secondary school, especially year nine. I was bullied, by the stereotypical popular girls at school. And yes, the same girls that’ll be sharing the anti bullying quotes etc. I know hypocrites. I was bullied so much, that I was glad due to family problems I moved schools, but this education move was after the days of going home in tears, telling my mum, it was just hay fever. A lot of evenings thinking I’m not good enough, I suck and everyone will be better off, if I wasn’t around. I was 13/14 years old, fantasying what it’d be like if, if I could hide somewhere, and stab myself in the stomach, or if I could strangle myself with a scarf/belt or anything that’d work. I also though what if I took one too many tablets, anything that could take my life. These thoughts accumulated for months.

Then when I found out I was moving schools, I was happy, fresh start and all that. On my last day in year nine, I was allowed to have my polo shirt signed. My friends signed lovely stuff, but the bullies did not, they wrote ‘Miss anal’ and others, which I choose not to remember, but this written on my school shirt forever, led me to shut myself away that evening, and I attempted to take my own life. I wrapped my hands around my throat, and squeezed till I got tired. This is what those bullies accomplished.

I never attempted it after, but still get those, what if I succeeded thoughts, even to this day. Only difference being, now I remind myself, that I have a son who comes first. To be a role model for, and help him stand up, for those who can’t. He means the world to me. If I had of succeeded 11 years ago, he wouldn’t be here, I’d never have gotten to be a mum, or get to be married, have a career, meet the love of my life, pass my driving test, meet my favourite band, The Story So Far, etc…

This is a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, the first time I’ve shared this. I know it’s easier said, then done but hold on and speak out. There is charities out there that can help, Samaritans, Mind and Off The Record. I’m also opening my emails up. So if you’d like an open minded chat, then I’m more then happy to listen in an email: or even private message me on my social media accounts.

Let’s start talking about this, and make it a none taboo subject. Moving forward, let’s all remember to be a bit kinder, in person and behind a keyboard. And think before you speak. If you wouldn’t speak to your children like that, then don’t say it.

~RebeccaKLxo 🖤💚