Adanna had always known she was beautiful. From a young age, people showered her with compliments—her rich brown skin glowed like polished mahogany, and her eyes sparkled with confidence. When she won the Miss Radiance beauty pageant, she wasn’t surprised. She had expected it.
As she walked through the city, people stared in admiration. Heads turned. Women whispered, and men watched in awe. She carried herself with elegance, always dressed in the finest clothes, chin slightly lifted, a proud smile on her lips.
But with pride came isolation.
Her closest friends drifted away. They said she had changed, that she no longer laughed with them, that she looked down on others. Even her younger sister, Amaka, hesitated to approach her. "You don’t smile the way you used to," Amaka said one evening, watching her from across the room.
Adanna scoffed. "A queen must carry herself with dignity," she replied.
One day, a young girl approached her after an event. "Miss Adanna, you are so beautiful," the girl said, eyes filled with admiration. "I want to be like you when I grow up."
Adanna smiled, ready to accept the compliment. But then the girl added, "But my mother says beauty fades, and kindness makes people remember you forever. Are you kind?"
The question struck her like a bolt of lightning. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. That night, she looked in the mirror, really looked at herself for the first time in months. Her beauty was undeniable, but was that all she had become?
The next morning, Adanna did something she hadn't done in a long time—she called her sister and asked how she was. Then, she met up with her friends and laughed with them like she used to. Slowly, she learned that true beauty wasn’t just in how she looked, but in how she made others feel.
And for the first time in a long while, Adanna felt truly radiant.