My First Time Using Hemorrhoid Cream

One pack of velcro hair rollers, a venus razor, saran wrap and…five boxes of Preparation H. I avoided eye contact with the person at the cash register as he scanned my items. I was at the bougie Target in Syracuse, New York, stocking up for my version of “summer camp” - competing in the Miss New York Pageant. Once we all arrived at the site of the competition, on Staten Island, the contestants would be in complete isolation during the competition to maintain fairness. Anything we needed had to be packed and brought with us beforehand, and open to inspection. This was my first time ever competing in a swimsuit competition wearing a bikini. I had made it into the big leagues, but I was terrified and a part of me was regretting my decision. Which brought me to this moment - trying to stock up on hemorrhoid cream. Pageant legend has it that if you smear Preparation-H all over your body and wrap yourself in plastic wrap overnight, it will shrink your skin tissue and make your muscles pop. This might sound absurd to you, but I had been training for this pageant for 7 years of my life. It was the precursor to the ultimate goal of winning Miss America. I was desperate. And delusional. And hungry. 

The night before my swimsuit competition, I ignored my roommate and secretly went into the bathroom armed with my Preparation-H and a roll of Saran Wrap, completely committed to seeing this operation through. I had lost 55 pounds over the course of five months in preparation for this moment, working out two, sometimes three times a day, and limited my food to 800 calories (500 would get me a gold star), but I was still insecure about my body. I had to wear a red hot bikini and strut around in five inch heels (whilst spinning and twirling around myself) as I sucked in my fat, flexed my muscles, and held a huge smile as if I were “having FUN”! No wonder I had to make this work. As I squeezed the thick vaseline like gel onto my stomach, I felt a slight tingling sensation. It must be working! I made my way through three tubes as I applied it all over my torso, upper arms, and thighs. I started wrapping my stomach and torso area as tight as I could, with the Preparation-H squeezing out from the sides. Damnit. Finally, with this strange body wrap on, I look in the mirror with a sense of accomplishment: standing in the “power pose” I learned from Amy Cuddy’s newly released viral TED Talk, you totalllyyy got this! I layered my pajamas over my frankenstein looking body, and proceeded to have the most uncomfortable sleep of my life.

 The next morning, I wrestled with the Saran Wrap for half an hour because I had forgotten scissors and I’d be damned before admitting to anyone that I was doing this (even though, let’s be real, most of the girls were doing this). Finally free, I assess my body in the mirror as if I were the skilled surgeon my parents wanted me to be. My torso is red from irritation (which I don’t care about at all). Makeup will fix that - but do my abs look more defined? Did my stretch marks shrink? Am I smaller? Did it work?!?! OF COURSE IT DIDN’T WORK. But, the delusional side of me had to believe that it did. 

Standing naked backstage, I applied body bronzer to every nook and cranny of my body: underarms, bikini line, between the toes. Think Elphaba in Wicked. I then contoured my abs and shoulders with a darker shade of bronzer so the outline of muscles would pop on stage. Then blended the shit outta it to make it look “natural”. I clasped my swimsuit top and secured my chicken cutlets (bra pads that give your boobs a nice lift, which look exactly like their name). After adjusting “the girls,” I pulled my swimsuit bottoms up way past my hips, giving myself a wedgie. One after one, all the girls lined up for butt glue. Yes, you heard right. It was soon my turn to bend over the dressing room table as the backstage hostess applied a thick clear glue on each of my butt cheeks. Once it's on, I had to wait 30 seconds for it to get tacky (some girls kindly fanned each other’s bottoms during this process), and then, I turned around so my butt was facing the mirror. I bent over again so I could see where the glue was and looking back at my derriere, I carefully positioned my swimsuit exactly where I wanted it to lay. Then, I smoothed it down so there were no wrinkles (this part is truly an art - can you imagine a giant wrinkle on your butt cheek?!). Then comes the fun part. Satisfied with my work, I gave my butt a few hard, loud smacks so my swimsuit would stay put (some girls helped each other with this too, but if anyone was gonna smack my ass, it was gonna be me). I’m sure this already feels like a show in itself, but I’m not even on stage yet. I lined up backstage as I tied my sarong and waited for my name to be called. 

When it was my time, I walked out holding my breath, stripped off my sarong, and gave my best strut as people in the audience debated if my boobs were real (they were), and the judges were judging my body’s worth by writing down a score of 1-10. I hit all my marks and “abs were poppin,” as one friend put it, but my body and mind screamed - can they see my cellulite? Do my arms look toned? Suck your gut in for just a few seconds more! With one final twirl, it was over. Then, backstage and dizzy, I collapsed in half with hands on my knees as I finally let out the breath I was holding in, released my gut, and gasped for more air–still wearing my 5-inch heels. After all that, my preparation wasn’t enough - I placed 2nd runner-up to Miss New York. Fuck me. 

I went back to my hotel room with a pint of Red Velvet Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream. After stuffing my face, I removed my makeup and took out my hair extensions. I watched the dirty makeup water drain as I returned to “normal” and got in the shower to wash out my “higher the hair, closer to god” hairstyle. My blow-dried, straightened hair, with pageant curls added back in with a curling iron, returned to its natural, curly texture, which I had hated since I was five years old. The body bronzer came off and I saw the stretch marks on my arms slowly reappear from when I was fat. Ugh, you’re such a fatass. You just downed an entire pint of ice cream - have you zero self-control? Did you forget what it took to lose those fifty five fucking pounds?! I felt remnants of the butt glue and started scrubbing it off - it wasn’t until then that I looked down and noticed the skin around my stomach was still sensitive from the previous night’s “operation.” Standing there naked, I felt completely and utterly stupid. I’m so fucking over this. I thought about all the hoopla with the hemorrhoid cream and told myself I was done with pageants. Unfortunately, pageants weren’t done with me. 

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If you’ve made it this far - thank you! This is the exact essay I submitted as a prologue to my memoir and it’s one of my favorite pieces that I’ve ever written. It’s been 11 years since winning Miss America and it only felt fitting that I share a little snippet of what I’ve been working on behind the scenes for well, 11 years! I’m excited to share that my memoir is in the works and I’ll have more to spill on that soon, so keep an eye out on this space for more writings and general musings 🙂 

And if you think someone will enjoy this, please share! It really does help a lot!

💜 Nina