A plus-sized winner of a Miss Alabama beauty contest, Sara Millikеn, has responded to online trolls who labeled her an “unhealthy embarrassment.” The 23-year-old was thrilled when she won the top prize in the National American Miss pageant, but her joy was short-lived as she faced a barrage of negative comments about her appearance.
“Even something that you type over a screen can have a lasting impression on people,” Millikеn told WKRG. “Even though I’m not at that point, it can lead people to do some very dark things to themselves.”
Millikеn’s response to the criticism highlights the impact of cyberbullying and the importance of kindness. Despite the negative comments, she remains determined to not let the harsh words hold her back as she prepares for the national final in Florida over Thanksgiving.
Among the cruel remarks, Blaine Tom Mieroughts wrote, “I thought it was a beauty pageant,” while Randy Hicks added, “Is that actually considered attractive in Alabama?” John Mason made a hurtful reference to the fast-food chain, saying, “This should have been (M)iss Jack in the Box winner.”
However, Millikеn also received support from many individuals. Tracie Stephens-Brooks praised her, saying, “To know is to love her. This young lady has a heart of gold and will give anyone in need a helping hand. A beautiful obese diva with style, sass, and a lot of class.” Samantha Thrash Duff expressed her pride, stating, “So proud of her! We watched her all weekend and prayed hard that she would come home with that title! She is an amazing, sweet young woman and is going to do great things!” David Junior added, “Great to finally not see some 100lb, blonde hair blue eyes who wants world peace win! Congrats to Alabama and this Queen!”
Millikеn’s victory was her third attempt at the contest, which aims to foster “positive self-image by enhancing natural beauty within.” She competed over Memorial Day Weekend, participating in interviews, volunteer work, and presentations. The pageant scores contestants based on “personality, confidence, and communication,” according to organizers.
The website for the contest states, “Braces, glasses, skin problems, varying heights, weights, and appearances are all a part of creating the special and unique individual that you are and that we want to celebrate.”
Although sh.ocked by the initial negative response, Millikеn has since received an outpouring of support from around the world, gaining 2,500 followers on Instagram and Facebook overnight.
She remains focused on spreading positivity. “I’ll be honest, it got to me for about five minutes,” she admitted. “Their words can hurt, even if it is online. I’ve always wanted to spread positivity, and this kind of put me in a position to do exactly that.”
Supporters have offered her everything from dresses to beauty products to help her in the next round of the competition. Millikеn emphasized the importance of kindness and noted that not everyone can easily shake off cyberbullying.
“No matter what your body looks likе, no matter where you come from, you can do anything you set your mind to,” Millikеn said following her victory. “I met so many amazing and accomplished women. That was definitely the best part.”
Hundreds of supporters have since flooded her inbox with offers of support, reinforcing the importance of community and positivity in the face of online negativity.
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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