“You’re not beautiful enough for my son,” Gertrude, my mother-in-law, told me with a straight face.After years of enduring her constant criticisms—about my cooking, my lipstick, even my career—I finally broke. That cruel comment lit a fire in me. I decided to enter a beauty contest, not to win her over, but to reclaim my confidence and prove I was more than her shallow judgments.I worked day and night

designing a collection that represented real beauty—kindness, strength, and authenticity. But even at the contest, sabotage followed me. My final gown, the centerpiece of my presentation, was mysteriously damaged. I later found out Gertrude had bribed the organizer—my so-called friend.Still, I didn’t let her win. I gave my dress to another contestant who’d also been sabotaged,