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.
She inquired, “What’s the price for the eggs?” The elderly seller responded, “0.25 cents per egg
The old egg seller, his eyes weary and hands trembIing, continued to sell his eggs at a loss. Each day, he watched the sun rise over the same cracked pavement, hoping for a miracle. But the world was indifferent. His small shop, once bustling with life, now echoed emptiness.
The townspeople hurried past him, their footsteps muffled by their own worries. They no longer stopped to chat or inquire about the weather. The old man’s heart sank as he counted the remaining eggs in his baskets. Six left. Just six. The same number that the woman had purchased weeks ago.
He remembered her vividly—the woman with the determined eyes and the crisp dollar bill. She had bargained with him, driving a hard bargain for those six eggs. “$1.25 or I will leave,” she had said, her voice firm. He had agreed, even though it was less than his asking price. Desperation had cIouded his judgment.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The old seller kept his promise, selling those six eggs for $1.25 each time. He watched the seasons change—the leaves turning from green to gold, then falling to the ground like forgotten dreams. His fingers traced the grooves on the wooden crate, worn smooth by years of use.
One bitter morning, he woke to find frost cIinging to the windowpane. The chill seeped through the cracks, settling in his bones. He brewed a weak cup of tea, the steam rising like memories. As he sat on the same wooden crate, he realized that he could no longer afford to keep his small shop open.
The townspeople had moved on, their lives intertwined with busier streets and brighter lights. The old man packed up his remaining eggs, their fragile shells cradled in his weathered hands. He whispered a silent farewell to the empty shop, its walls bearing witness to countless stories—the laughter of children, the haggling of customers, and the quiet moments when he had counted his blessings.
Outside, the world was gray—a canvas waiting for a final stroke. He walked the familiar path, the weight of those six eggs heavier than ever. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting long shadows on the pavement. He reached the edge of town, where the road met the horizon.
And there, under the vast expanse of sky, he made his decision. With tears in his eyes, he gently placed the eggs on the ground. One by one, he cracked them open, releasing their golden yoIks. The wind carried their essence away, a bittersweet offering to the universe.
The old egg seller stood there, his heart as fragile as the shells he had broken. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. And in that quiet moment, he whispered a prayer—for the woman who had bargained with him, for the townspeople who had forgotten, and for himself.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he turned away from the empty road. His footsteps faded, leaving behind a trail of memories. And somewhere, in the vastness of the universe, six golden yolks danced—a silent requiem for a forgotten dream.
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