Perseverance, Dedication, and Authenticity – Lessons & Life After the Crown

It’s almost impossible to encompass a decade-long journey into a few paragraphs in a world as complex as pageant land. But there are a few noteworthy moments, experiences, and lessons learned that ultimately shaped the life I have today. As cliché as it sounds, the little things make the biggest impact — the few seconds you have to yourself while waiting in the wings backstage, the smiles on children’s faces when you wave from a car during a parade, and the times where you experience a lesson so profound you can’t help but decide to change your life accordingly. 

Like many women, I started as a shy, bright-eyed preteen. My parents were worried that I might never be comfortable talking to strangers or even making a simple phone call to schedule an appointment. Pageants were something I only saw on TV growing up — a world that felt like an unattainable fantasy. Every year, my mom and I would clear our calendars, cozy up on the couch, and cheer on our favorites during the Miss America broadcast — a foreshadowing of how small seeds can grow into something much bigger.

You can imagine the excitement and disbelief when a letter arrived in the mail, inviting me to an open call to potentially compete in a pageant. A real-life pageant?! Funny enough, my mom thought it was a scam. It was my dad who did a few quick searches and said, “she has to do this.” The rest is history.

Throughout those ten years competing, pageantry truly saw all the highs and lows of a young woman growing up year after year. Through wins and, more often, losses, there were a few lessons that became cornerstones of my life. Most importantly, these are the lessons I instill in my clients today. 

1. Dedication is the foundation of success, not the result. 

2. Persevere. There will inevitably be losses, moments that sting, and times where you question yourself entirely. If you have a dream that you can’t stop thinking about, persevere anyways. 

3. Authenticity wins. Every time. And I don’t just mean during your competitions. 

I’ve always said pageants are one of the few things that challenges and encompasses every part of a person. I like to emphasize not only to my clients but every young woman in pageantry – women aren’t necessarily “good at pageants.” As such an incredibly subjective competition, it’s not like scoring a touchdown and knowing you’ll get six points. Pageants are like scoring a touchdown and not knowing if the referee will award you three points instead. However, the women who do excel in the pageant world have worked on all these other parts of themselves and just so happen to showcase their growth through pageants. 

Communication, confidence, poise, worldly knowledge, style, mindset, public speaking, and so much more. When you pour yourself into bettering your life outside of the pageant world, your success within it becomes obvious. 

Now, sitting on the other side of the table as a coach, these lessons have never been more apparent or important. I see so many young women frustrated or confused by the pageant industry and my goal is always to be that guidance and clarity I felt I needed. Everyone deserves a support system they love and can trust. 

I began mentoring and coaching a few years before I became Miss Wisconsin. During my year of serving the state, I was grateful to have even more opportunities to lead and mentor young women. It has been not only fulfilling, but an absolute joy to officially create a business that is dedicated to empowering women. There is truly no better feeling. 

Lila Hui Consulting was founded on the idea that your success doesn’t end when you give up your crown. Our focus is to give you the tools to land that dream job, have your dream career, and get that life-changing scholarship. While we will always support you in getting that dream title, our success comes when you are able to use those life long skills after your crowning days are over. 

I will forever be grateful for my time competing – not because it brought me a few sparkly hats, but because of the lessons, the love, the tools, the skills, and the community that I will have in my life forever. 

Stay dedicated, stay gracious, persevere always. Never be afraid of being “the first” and remember that being authentic always wins, even if it doesn’t feel that way at first. Stay true to yourself, your style, your experiences, your goals, surround yourself with people who support your journey, and most importantly, bet on yourself. 

-Lila Hui Szyryj

Lila Hui Consulting

Website | Facebook | Instagram 

From Stage to Scorecard: Navigating the Emotions of Competition, Loss, and Understanding the Judging Process

In my last blog post, I briefly touched on my experiences with loss and self acceptance. I recently just came back from San Antonio, Texas, from judging the Texas Petite Pageant, where over 40 girls competed for a chance at winning 5 different state titles based off of their age group. Most of the women who competed didn’t walk away with a title. Today, I would like to dive deeper into the emotions behind losing a pageant and where to go, my personal experiences, and how judging a pageant helped me understand how judging can be just as stressful as competing. 

I think we have all had the shared emotion of feeling like you aren’t enough. It comes and goes, and in pageants, it is especially known when you are a runner up, small placement, or more. Especially when you put the effort in but don’t get the end result you were looking for. 

For me, this happened my sophomore year of highschool. I was so emotionally tied to who I was with a crown. I remember listening to my coaches and my friends and hearing how hard I had worked for the title I was competing for. I remember putting in the work for an hour or an hour and a half every night walking in 6 inch heels for evening gown and sneakers for athletic wear. I remember recording myself walking over and over again, watching my movements, facial expressions, poses, and the time it took me to get from place to place. 

I remember the pride I had when I was competing and feeling like I was ready to conquer the stage before me. As you can tell, that didn’t happen. I ended up performing the worst I had ever performed, because of over exhaustion and stress. I had put too much stress on winning and over planned every little detail. I didn’t eat the whole day because I thought it would help me look skinnier, and in the end it hindered my chances of winning forever. 

Driving back that night, I remember being with my friends in the car and telling them I was done with pageants forever. The stress and anxiety they had caused me had finally broken me physically and mentally. I felt broken, displaced, and embarrassed. All my hard work didn’t show up on stage, and instead made me feel worthless. 

I remember going through all of my clothing and throwing it out, cleaning my room of all my shoes and sashes, and putting them in a box under my bed, hoping to not look at them again. 

I took a year off of pageants, celebrating who I was without a crown and finding who Hannah really is. That included traveling the country, finding new hobbies like music, writing, and exploring and adventuring. That left more room to do self care, including meditation, yoga, and self affirmations. I gained more social groups and established close relationships with my friends, feeling like I truly had people to lean on. I gained the sense of belonging that I was missing. I felt stable enough to try at love again, and the world opened up to me. 

That time gave me an understanding of who I was, and a deeper “why” into why I do pageants. My reason is to help people and to inspire people to be who they are. 

With that knowledge, I signed up to compete for Teen New England Petite in April of 2023, with the competition being in March of 2024. I gave myself time to work my walk, my interview skills, and my overall vision of myself. 

When the competition finally rolled around, I knew I was doing it because I wanted to round out my last year of competing, and give myself the shot of redemption I needed. 

The same situation happened at Petite USA, with a slight twist. I realized I wanted to give it my best shot about a month before competition, and told my coach and directors at the send off party for New England Petite. Sorry guys, I definitely should have thought about it earlier!

All the emotions of feeling like I wasn’t enough washed away when I was competing, because I knew my story of who I was is powerful and my love for helping people would stay even if I didn’t win. What I think we need to realize is the crown helps your story reach people, it shouldn’t give you the story that you are trying to shape. You should be using the crown as a megaphone for your platform and who you are to inspire others, not to regain your self worth, because you’ll still be the same person with or without the crown and have the same experiences to go far. 

Judging in Texas helped me understand how far that really goes. I was SO nervous to judge because I am only 18 and just a girl, but I also was scared I wasn’t qualified for the job. Sure, this was my 6th pageant when I won, but I wasn’t sure if girls would take me seriously because I am younger. I remember sitting in the bathroom before interviews and having to take a deep breath and tell myself everything is going to be okay, because I was really worried. 

That wasn't the case at all, and the interview part of the competition was my favorite. I loved being able to hear everyone’s why, and how their stories impacted their lives and what they do in their communities. I had to take a minute after interviews to just take in all the information I had learned about these 40 something women and smile, because I am so honored to represent a system that truly inspires women to get out into their communities and find a purpose. 

Then the final show, swim and evening gown, as well as the onstage question, and then crowning. 

I learned how hard it is to try to pick between contestants and their stories. Some of their stories truly rocked my core and inspired me to look deeper into myself. There were so many powerful stories, and it made me understand why judging is nerve wracking. 

I remember whenever I would place 2nd place or 3rd place that I would feel like I wasn’t enough or even close. But after judging, I realized how hard it is to choose between people. I remember giving .5s and .7s on scores, and I didn’t even know who was going to win because it was so close in some categories. 

I think my advice I would give to anyone competing is to not give up. You will have your moment, whether it's next month, next year, or 10 years from now. The journey through pageantry is all about your self growth as a person. Waiting on a miracle won’t help your dreams come true, hard work and determination will help you succeed. Never give up on who you are because you are still growing in pageants, but also as a person. Give yourself time to take a step back, breathe, and really evaluate who you are as a person. 

The road through self love is twisty, turning, and always never ending. You can’t wait for a crown to give to you, you have to go out and find it. And that is not to say there will be good and bad days. Sometimes, I don’t like myself some days, other days, I love myself and I love how I look. It is the cycle we call life. But, we shouldn’t let it deter us from being who we truly, authentically are. 

If you haven’t told someone you loved them today, go give them a hug, and tell them how much you care for them.

See you next blog post (duh!)

Your Teen Petite USA 2024 and friend,

Han

Hannah Karki 

Coming Back and Climbing Higher by Arianna Shanks-Hill

Domestic violence awareness month ended in October, but advocacy is a full time job that transcends a calendar. I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking about my experiences with domestic violence; how it’s shaped me, the person I could have been if I hadn't had those experiences, how to prevent it from happening to anyone else. Many of my advocacy efforts involve education and detailed warnings for what signs of intimate partner violence and domestic violence to look out for (for adults, teenagers, and parents on their children’s behalf). I’ve told my story in an effort to educate others on the severity of the situation, and in hopes that other survivors can find community and solace in a girl with a story to tell and a determination to change the world for everyone like her. For a very long time I thought that doing just that would be enough, and that I could make those changes by making people feel connected to me and passionate about helping others like me.

As it turns out though, it’s not enough to provide resources and escape plans and a support system for those affected, or to attempt to invoke empathy from those around you. As it turns out, there will never be tangible change or a future that looks different if there is no hope. The most powerful thing I can do is create hope: for survivors and their futures, and for the communities who want to make a difference. The truth of the matter is that my life after abuse is just as, if not more important, of a story to tell. It tells survivors who identify with me that their life is not over at the hands of someone else, and it tells bystanders that their participation in advocacy helps create certain, beautiful futures. It gives them a tangible effect to believe in. It tells them that their work means something, and that standing with survivors will always be worth it.

 
I tend to have bad days every once in a while, as we all do, and I have the very common experience of what I like to call a “survivor spiral”. In my experience, I start to think about how unfair it is that I have to live with the effects of someone else’s actions. I start to wonder who I would be, and how I would be different if I had never walked through that dark time in my life. It’s a slippery slope and once those moments begin, it's hard to stop them and I tend to find myself in the middle of a panic attack or breakdown. Today though, in the midst of the thoughts of how unfair abuse is, I also realized that there has not been a single moment in the past 2 years where I have not felt loved. And that is exactly what I want to tell you about. The truth of it all is that it IS unfair. It’s heartbreaking and anger-inducing and devastating. But how will we know how beautiful the constellations of stars are if we’ve never walked through the dark? How will we know exactly how to connect with survivors and enact change if we’ve never shared similar experiences? I cannot change the events of my past, but I can walk forward with my head held high, knowing that the person that I have become is cloaked in unimaginable strength and incomparable gentleness that separates me from my abuser with a gap he will never be able to close. When you are brave enough to walk away from what is familiar, and step into the unknown in hopes of a better life, you will find yourself rewarded with more beautiful things than you have ever thought possible. One of my very favorite quotes is this: 
“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.”
Hope has not and will never be an easy thing. It is an action verb that takes the utmost determination and strength to carry out. Over the past few years, I’ve learned through experience that it will always be worth it to take that leap, even if you have to take it while uncertain and scared. Knowing this, and knowing that that is always easier said than done, I want to give you some tangible evidence of what a beautiful, worthy, abuse-free future looks like. 

This August, I moved into my very first apartment with two of my best friends in the entire world. My dad drove an hour and a half to move me in, and put together all of my furniture for me, and took me grocery shopping before he hugged me goodbye and told me how proud he was. I decorated my room exactly to my tastes. I bought a baby pink toaster, and set up my pink Keurig on my kitchen counter. I get to sit on my balcony in the mornings and watch the sun rise, or stand out there and listen to the rain hit the pavement. I created a space that is all my own, covered in dinosaur paraphernalia and girly pink decorations: all things I had previously been made fun of for, or made to feel bad about. I get to come home to a place that has never been marked by violence, or by fighting, or my fear-filled tears praying for something more than the position I was in. 
I met the girls I now live with when I was a freshman in college, still unsure of who I was or how I deserved to be treated. I somehow stumbled into this friendship unsuspecting, and we quickly became an inseparable trio. It is a wonderfully beautiful thing to have them as friends, because I know that I will never have to walk through anything alone. The true test of friendship is finding people who will accept you and love you on the best and the worst days of your life. I got to come home to them when I was crowned Miss Tippecanoe 2025, and I got to come home to them when I failed my first chemistry test. They make me laugh until my stomach hurts, and will sit with me in silence until I'm ready to talk. They have never viewed me as broken, or unworthy, or “too much” to deal with. They love all the pieces of me, including the ones I'm still trying to pick up on behalf of 15-year-old me. To find your village is the best future you can hope for.

I started my junior year of college this year, and I get to spend my days learning from some of the best kinesiology professors in the country. How privileged am I to get to walk with friends to class, sit with and share notes with them, share my joy with them. How privileged am I to sit in a classroom and learn how to help the people around me. I’m ¾ of the way through a bachelor's degree, and I am lucky enough to have one more year of undergrad to be exhausted from studying all night, to be stressed about an exam, to eat terrible cafeteria food. What a joy it is to live out a dream you prayed for over and over. 

In June, I went to Miss Indiana 2024 as Miss Heart of the Midwest. I was nominated as a Joy of Life finalist, an award given for community service and the impact on the people around you. I was given a space to tell my story, and to talk about the girl I've been, the girl I am, and the girl I will be. The whole week was full of memories, love, sisterhood, and joy. I never would have guessed that any of these experiences would be part of my story, but I am so grateful that they are. Pageantry as a whole has brought me so much love, but to get here I had to trust that hope would carry me through. 

Last November I met my wonderful partner, who I am convinced is an angel on earth, and who quickly redefined what I knew love to be. The scars of an abusive relationship will probably always be there, but she loves me regardless, as the whole person that I am. She learned my triggers, and learned how to make me feel loved, and prioritized my joy and safety. I’ve laughed more in the past 12 months than I ever have before. We have coffee dates, and study dates, and spend our days finding adventures to embark on together. I've had to buy multiple new vases because she brings me flowers so often I ran out of clean mason jars to put them in. All of these things are to say that if you start to believe that all you deserve is abusive, manipulative “love”, take my word for it that your brain is lying to you, and that there is a future full of love ahead. There is love out there that does not encompass violence. There is love out there that perpetuates kindness and respect, even within anger. There is love out there that will teach you that not all anger accompanies a fist. There is love out there that will teach you what it's truly supposed to feel like to be cared for; that won't make you cry, and builds you up instead of breaking you down. 

My partner and I even have a beautiful puppy, a sweet girl named Blue. She is my tiny shadow, my companion, and brings me more joy than I even knew I had the capacity for. She is a reminder that there is hope and joy waiting in the form of unexpected experiences, people, animals, feelings, places. Just because you can’t imagine it doesn't mean it isn't waiting for you. All of these things probably seem so frivolous, but to me they are my little pockets of joy. How refreshing it is to have a place to belong; a place where I am wanted and celebrated. How refreshing it is to hear my abusers voice in my head and be able to say “you were wrong. I did it all, and I built a life that is all mine”. How beautiful it is to savor these moments, on behalf of that sweet 15 year old who wasn’t sure if she would live to see 18. I get to have a calm, peaceful, completely uninterrupted life of my own. That is a dream that most survivors do not ever get to live. Some women never make it out. So I sit here today, in my very own apartment, with my beautiful friends, loving family, sweet puppy, and perfect partner, completely full of gratitude. Gratitude for the women who carried my hope for me until I was brave enough to carry it myself. Gratitude for every woman who came before me, and lit the way for survivors everywhere to build a life of their own. It’s my turn to carry the torch. 

My life now is beautiful because I made it that way; because the people around me encouraged me to never settle. Because I found the strength to trust hope and trust love just one more time. If you cannot find that strength alone, please let me lend you some of mine. Heaven knows I didn't get here alone. 
If you take anything away from all of this, let it be this: Do not trust the part of your brain that is familiar with pain and suffering. Do not let it tell you that your life is over. Do not let it tell you that this is all there will ever be. Do not let it decide your future for you. 

You are entirely up to you. No other person’s actions will ever define you, and there is no experience that disqualifies you from being deserving of a love that is safe, secure, and respectful. Allow yourself to make room for unknown joy, and trust the tiny spark of hope in your heart that is whispering to you that a better life is out there. And, when you feel brave enough, take a step forward and seek out the life you deserve; it is waiting for you, whenever you're ready.