The Beauty Paradox: How a Miss Universe Winner Unfiltered the Truth About Social Media
There’s something deeply ironic about beauty pageants in the age of Instagram. On one hand, they’re often criticized for perpetuating narrow beauty standards. On the other, they’re now platforms where winners like Kaziah Liz Mejo, the newly crowned Miss Universe Kerala, are using their voices to dismantle those very standards. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Kaziah’s journey isn’t just about winning a crown—it’s about surviving the digital battlefield of adolescence.
The Filtered Reality of Growing Up Digital
Kaziah’s story begins in Abu Dhabi, a city she describes as feeling like home despite constantly switching schools. Personally, I think this sense of belonging is what grounded her during her teenage years, when the digital world became her biggest adversary. Growing up in the late 2000s, she was part of the first generation to navigate adolescence under the microscope of social media.
One thing that immediately stands out is her admission that for three years, she didn’t take a single photo without a filter. Not just any filter—the kind that narrows your face, enlarges your eyes, and lightens your skin. What many people don’t realize is how these seemingly harmless tools are weapons of self-doubt. For Kaziah, a girl with a naturally duskier complexion, these filters weren’t just fun—they were a daily reminder that her features were somehow wrong.
This raises a deeper question: How did we normalize a world where a 13-year-old feels the need to alter her appearance before sharing it? From my perspective, it’s a symptom of a larger cultural obsession with perfection, one that’s amplified by algorithms designed to keep us insecure.
The Insecurity Trap and the Audacity to Dream
What this really suggests is that the digital age has created a new kind of adolescence—one where insecurities are manufactured and sold back to us as products. Kaziah’s struggle with body dysmorphia wasn’t just personal; it was systemic. She recalls feeling like her extroverted personality was “too much,” a sentiment that’s all too common among teens today.
But here’s where her story takes a turn. Instead of letting these insecurities define her, Kaziah leaned into what she calls being “delulu”—a Gen-Z term for unapologetically ambitious. Her mother encouraged her to write down her dreams, no matter how unrealistic. Kaziah’s notebook was filled with Hollywood fantasies, a stark contrast to the self-doubt she felt online.
In my opinion, this is the most powerful part of her story. She didn’t wait for validation; she created her own path. Even when she didn’t win her first pageant, she saw it as a detour, not a dead end. If you take a step back and think about it, this mindset is what separates those who thrive from those who merely survive.
The Pageant Paradox: Authenticity in a Curated World
Now, as Miss Universe Kerala, Kaziah finds herself in a unique position. She’s part of an industry often accused of promoting unattainable beauty standards, yet she’s using her platform to challenge them. A detail that I find especially interesting is her refusal to conform to the stereotypical pageant lifestyle. No diets, no curated ‘What I Eat in a Day’ videos—just McDonald’s after a shoot and a love for podichor, a traditional South Indian dish.
This authenticity is her rebellion. She’s not just a beauty queen; she’s a role model for girls who feel pressured to fit into a digital mold. What this really suggests is that the beauty industry, despite its flaws, can be a space for change—if the right voices lead it.
Home, Identity, and the Bridge Between Worlds
Kaziah’s identity as a Malayali raised in Abu Dhabi adds another layer to her story. She’s part of a diaspora that often feels caught between worlds. Sometimes, you’re not Indian enough; other times, you’re not Arab enough. But being Indian, she argues, is about more than geography—it’s about values.
This duality is what makes her so relatable. She’s not just representing Kerala; she’s representing millions of young people who straddle cultures. Her nostalgia for Abu Dhabi—the shawarma, the mixed grills from Sultan—is a reminder that home isn’t just a place; it’s a feeling.
The Bigger Picture: Social Media’s Fake Reality
Kaziah’s story isn’t just about her; it’s about us. Social media has created a world where perfection is the norm, and anything less is failure. But as she puts it, “Social media is fake.” What many people don’t realize is how this fakeness seeps into our real lives, shaping our self-worth and expectations.
From my perspective, her message is a wake-up call. We need to stop chasing digital perfection and start embracing our imperfections. Kaziah’s journey is a testament to the power of authenticity in a world that thrives on curation.
Final Thoughts: The Audacity to Be Real
Kaziah Liz Mejo’s story is a masterclass in resilience, self-love, and the audacity to dream big. She’s not just a beauty queen; she’s a cultural commentator, using her platform to challenge the very systems that once made her feel small.
Personally, I think her greatest achievement isn’t the crown—it’s her ability to stay real in a world that constantly pushes her to be fake. If there’s one takeaway from her story, it’s this: In a world obsessed with perfection, the bravest thing you can do is be unapologetically yourself.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the real definition of beauty.
