EXCLUSIVE BOOK EXCERPT: 'Still Standing: The Untold Story of My Fight Against Gossip, Hate, and Political Attacks'

Excerpt From: “Still Standing” — Chapter 6

The other girls began to react to what had transpired between Perez and me as soon as the lights went down. Miss Vermont later told FOX News, “A lot of people were shocked. We were all kind of giving each other those eyes. We couldn’t believe it.”

As soon as I got back to the tent behind the stage to change, someone shouted, “California, Access Hollywood wants to interview you.”

“Why me? I didn’t win.”

CP

As I walked back and put my flowers down, I felt all eyes on me, which was strange because I wasn’t the winner, but there was this sort of buzz in the air, and it seemed to be buzzing around me. Part of it was that many of the house moms, who looked after the girls at the pageant, were coming up to me and whispering that I did the right thing in standing up for traditional marriage; they told me they were proud of me. I appreciated their kind words, but really my primary thought, after the letdown of losing, was to get out of this tight gown, take off all my makeup, eat a cheeseburger, and just go home and recover from the stress and strain of the last three weeks–weeks in which I had not seen my family, except in the audience.

I also wanted to get to a private room, turn on a computer or TV, and see what I had said. When you give a response under so much pressure, your memory of your own words isn’t terribly reliable. I really couldn’t remember my full answer. While I thought I had answered honestly and well, I no longer felt sure, and I wanted to see the tape and judge my performance. Given the reaction from the judges, I worried that I might have said something that I had not meant to say. Was it possible that I had said something truly awful?

Billy Bush had come up to me and said, “I just want to thank you for standing up and giving an answer. . . you’re the only one of the final five I thought who gave an answer.” He told me he was on his twitter account, tweeting his support for me.

I thanked him.

Then I heard someone shout a warning at me.

“Watch out!” one of the studio aides yelled, “Someone’s here to hurt you!” Several girls bunched up protectively around me. I was told a fight had broken out in the lobby after someone ripped a picture of me from one of my supporters and tore it to pieces.

As the fear from that moment subsided, I started to get angry at fate for letting me get that question of all questions. My confusion over my answer deepened, because I still couldn’t really remember it. Had I gone on and rambled like a former contestant once did, earning herself eternal YouTube stardom?

I looked around the tent. None of the production staff from NBC–people who had joked around with me before–said a word to me or even looked my way. Keith and Shanna were nowhere to be seen. People started packing up their things and leaving.

The evening, however, was far from over. After the televised event, Paula Shugart of the Miss Universe organization always holds a coronation ball. It is meant to be a celebration for all the contestants, not just a celebration for the winner; it’s a way to mark this special evening in one’s life, to say goodbye to friends, to get past the contest. As first runner- up, I also felt I needed to go to show my respect for the winner, Kristen Dalton of North Carolina. I wanted to go to say goodbye to the girls I had lived with for three weeks, especially Aureana. I didn’t want anyone to imagine I was a sore loser. My parents were with me, tickets in hand, when I received a text from Keith telling me not to come–a lot of people are mad at you, I’m afraid of what might happen to you. You really shouldn’t come.

I later heard from a friend who had seen Keith and Shanna in the lobby. Just before they angrily stormed out of the building, Shanna announced, “We told her not to talk about God! We told her not to talk about her faith!” This astonished me. I suppose my faith informed my answer, but what else could I have said? And shouldn’t my pageant directors have been defending me?

I asked again. “Is that what Shanna really said?” My friend said, “Yes.”

Excluded from the final event of the evening, my parents and I wandered around the empty corridors of Planet Hollywood. Exiled from the coronation ball, we found our way to a fast food café in the hotel. While everyone else was partying and celebrating, the first runner-up was in a little plastic chair eating greasy hamburgers with her family and friends.

Looking back now, I realize I had been too timid. I had the tickets. I should have gone to the ball, head held high. I should never have let Keith talk me out of going. But I was still in shock. And again, I couldn’t remember exactly what I had said. For about the millionth time that evening, I winced at the possibility that I had misspoken and said something so awful I wasn’t welcome at the coronation ball. How else to explain the widespread reaction against me?

I needed to get away from all this drama and hear my answer. I went up to my room. Miss Hawaii had already packed up and gone. I searched YouTube and saw my name instantly pop up–all over the internet. With apprehension, I clicked on the video and listened to myself over and over again.

I weighed my words, I analyzed them from every angle I could imagine–and then I decided I hadn’t said anything wrong. I had tried to give a balanced, fair, and honest answer. I had done nothing to offend, I had merely (and I thought politely) upheld the traditional definition of marriage agreed to by the majority of my fellow Californians, and certainly the majority of Americans. What, then, was all the fuss about?

“Still Standing” is published by Regnery Press and available at Amazon.com, and elsewhere.

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