Survivor StoryNav's Story
The girl who never stopped becoming If you looked at me today, you might see a woman who is smiling, enjoying life, chasing opportunities, standing in front of cameras, walking runways and entering a world of pageantry. You might see a wife, a mother, a woman who seems to have found her confidence and is finally beginning to believe in herself. But what you might not see is everything it took to get here. You wouldn’t see the little girl who grew up questioning whether she would ever amount to anything. The little girl who heard words that made her feel small, who grew up in an environment where women weren’t always valued in the way they deserved to be, and who witnessed things no child should have to witness, including her mum experiencing physical and verbal abuse. I grew up carrying experiences that would shape how I viewed myself for many years. I learned to question my worth, to doubt my abilities and, at times, to make myself smaller than I really was. Coming from an Indian background, I also struggled with my identity. For a long time, I felt caught between two worlds. I grew up feeling that I needed to hide certain parts of myself to fit in. Rather than embracing my heritage, I sometimes felt embarrassed by it. I didn’t always know how to celebrate the different parts of who I was. I never imagined that one day I would look back and realise that those very parts of me were something to be proud of. Then came motherhood. Becoming Isabella’s mummy changed my life in ways I could never have imagined. Suddenly, my world wasn’t just about me anymore. I had this little girl looking up at me, depending on me and learning about the world through the things she saw me do. I wanted to give her everything I could. I wanted her to feel loved, secure, confident and, most importantly, worthy of everything life had to offer. But motherhood didn’t mean I suddenly had everything figured out. Behind the smiles, I was still navigating my own insecurities, trying to understand who I was and learning how to be the person I wanted my daughter to look up to. After seven years together, the relationship I thought would be my forever came to an end. Five years ago, my world as I knew it changed almost overnight. I lost my relationship, my home, my sense of belonging and, perhaps most painfully, the version of myself I thought I was. The future I had pictured disappeared, and I found myself having to start again in circumstances I had never imagined. The breakdown of the relationship was made even more painful by discovering infidelity and knowing that my former partner was leaving for someone else. It brought a whole new level of hurt and comparison. I questioned what I had done wrong, whether I wasn’t enough and what someone else had that I didn’t. When someone leaves you for somebody else, it’s easy to start measuring your worth against another person. I found myself doing exactly that. My confidence was at an all-time low. I questioned my appearance, my personality, my value and almost everything about myself. As if everything I was already going through wasn’t enough, I experienced something that would leave another deep mark on me. I was sexually assaulted in my own home by someone I considered a friend. A place that was supposed to be my safe space, somewhere I could retreat to and feel protected, suddenly became somewhere associated with fear, vulnerability and a violation of my trust. It was an incredibly difficult experience to process, particularly when I was already struggling with my self-worth and trying to make sense of everything that had happened in my life. Having someone I trusted violate me in that way left me with feelings and emotions that were difficult to put into words. I was already questioning myself, and this experience only added to the emotional weight I was carrying. There is something particularly painful about having your sense of safety taken away in your own home, by someone you never expected to hurt you. It was another experience I had to navigate while trying to hold myself together and continue being the mum Isabella needed. For a long time, I was simply trying to survive everything that life had thrown at me. I don’t share this for sympathy, but because it is part of my story, and pretending it didn’t happen would mean leaving out something that had a significant impact on my journey. I also had to navigate becoming a 50/50 co-parent. Going from having my daughter with me every day to sharing my time with her was an adjustment I cannot fully put into words. I missed her when she wasn’t there. I had to learn to live with a different kind of motherhood, one where the house could suddenly feel very quiet. There were days when I felt incredibly lonely. Days when I wondered how my life had ended up looking so different from the one I had planned. But even when I was hurting, I knew one thing: Isabella needed me. I didn’t want her to grow up believing that difficult chapters meant the end of your story. I wanted her to see that you could experience heartbreak, disappointment and change and still create a beautiful life. I had to find a way forward, even when I didn’t feel particularly strong. During that period, my mum became an important part of my journey. I found myself living with her while I navigated the changes in my life, and together we worked towards creating a home for Isabella and me. In August 2022, we moved into a home that represented so much more than bricks and walls. It was a fresh start. A safe space. Somewhere I could begin rebuilding the life I wanted for my daughter and myself. I will always remember what that home represented. It was proof that even when life takes away the things you thought you needed, you can slowly build something new. I continued working, continued being a mum and continued showing up, even on the days when I didn’t feel like the strongest version of myself. I had spent so long trying to be enough for everybody else that I had almost forgotten how to be enough for myself. And somewhere along the way, I stopped recognising the woman looking back at me in the mirror. For years, I had worked in education, dedicating so much of myself to supporting children, particularly those with additional needs. I have always found fulfilment in helping others recognise their potential, encouraging them and reminding them that they are capable of more than they sometimes believe. Looking back, perhaps I needed to learn to give myself that same encouragement. Then life surprised me. I met John. I wasn’t necessarily looking for somebody to come along and change my life. What I needed was to rediscover myself, but somewhere along the way I found someone who encouraged me to do exactly that. John saw things in me that I struggled to see in myself. He encouraged me to try things that frightened me, to take opportunities, to believe in my abilities and to stop talking myself out of the things I wanted. He didn’t make me a different person. He helped me recognise that the person I already was had so much more to offer. He brought laughter, love, reassurance and a sense of partnership into my life. He reminded me that love doesn’t have to make you question your worth. It can make you feel safe enough to discover it. We built a life together, and in February 2026, I married him. For someone who had spent so much time questioning whether she was enough, being loved in a way that encourages her to grow has been incredibly special. I also gained a partner who believes in my dreams, supports my ambitions and celebrates the little victories that I might otherwise have dismissed. We have even built something together through Ourdentity, a brand that celebrates individuality, differences and bringing people together. In many ways, its message reflects something I have spent years learning myself: you don’t need to change who you are to belong. And then there is my journey back to my roots. The more I have grown, the more I have wanted to embrace the parts of myself I once felt I needed to hide. My Indian heritage is part of my story, and I no longer want to shy away from it. I want Isabella to grow up knowing she never has to choose between her Indian and English heritage. She can celebrate both. She can wear a beautiful traditional outfit one day, enjoy another part of her culture the next and feel equally at home in every part of who she is. I want her to know that being different is not something to apologise for. I want her to see a mummy who is proud of where she comes from, proud of where she is going and proud of the woman she is becoming. That is one of the reasons my journey into pageantry has become so meaningful to me. If you had told the woman I was five years ago that she would one day be standing on a runway, having professional photoshoots, entering a pageant and putting herself forward to be judged in front of an audience, I probably would have laughed. I was naturally shy. I struggled with confidence. I worried about what people thought of me and often felt uncomfortable being the centre of attention. Yet here I am, competing as Mrs Nottingham in Ultimate International Miss. For me, this journey has never been solely about a crown, a title or a sash. It is about the girl who was told she would never be anything, finally believing that she can be something. It is about the woman who once questioned her appearance, now learning to stand proudly in front of a camera. It is about the woman who once felt she had lost her identity, now finding the courage to express herself. It is about discovering female friendships, celebrating other women and being part of an environment where women can lift one another up rather than compete against one another. It is about understanding that being Ultimate doesn’t mean being perfect. It means being brave enough to show up as yourself, flaws, fears, insecurities and all. And perhaps most importantly, it is about Isabella. I want her to grow up watching her mummy chase dreams. I want her to see that you can be a mother, a wife, a professional, a woman with ambitions and a person with your own identity, all at the same time. I want her to know that she should never make herself smaller to make somebody else comfortable. That she should never allow someone else’s opinion to determine her worth. That she can be kind without being weak, strong without losing her softness and confident without ever losing her compassion. I also want her to understand that family doesn’t have to look one particular way. I am incredibly grateful that she has a healthy co-parenting relationship, two parents who can put the past aside and prioritise her happiness. She deserves to grow up surrounded by love, never feeling that she has to choose between the people who love her. When I look at my life today, I don’t pretend that everything has been easy. I still have insecurities. I still have days when I doubt myself. I still have moments when the little girl inside me needs reassurance. But the difference is that I no longer want those feelings to dictate what I can achieve. I am learning to give myself the kindness I have always so freely given to others. I am learning that I don’t need to be chosen by everybody, that I don’t need to compare myself to anybody and that another woman’s beauty, success or happiness takes nothing away from my own. I am learning to take up space. I am learning to be proud of myself. And I am learning that I deserve the beautiful things life has to offer. If there is one thing my journey has taught me, it is that your circumstances do not determine your ending. You can lose a relationship and still find love. You can lose a home and build somewhere that feels safer than ever. You can experience trauma and still reclaim your sense of self. You can lose your confidence and find it again. You can spend years believing you aren’t enough and eventually discover that you always were. I cannot go back and change what happened to the little girl I once was. I cannot erase the heartbreak, the difficult experiences or the years I spent questioning myself. But I can change what happens next. I can raise a daughter who knows her worth. I can celebrate my heritage. I can love wholeheartedly. I can support other women. I can chase the dreams I once thought were too big for me. And I can become the woman that little girl always deserved to have in her corner. Sometimes I wish I could sit beside the younger version of myself, hold her hand and tell her that one day things will feel different. That she will be loved. That she will have a beautiful little girl who makes her world brighter. That she will find a home, a family, a purpose and a confidence she never thought possible. I would tell her that those words spoken to her as a child were never her truth. She was always worthy. She was always enough. She just hadn’t discovered it yet. This isn’t a story about a woman who had everything go right. It’s a story about a woman who had to find herself again, who refused to let her hardest chapters define her and who is finally giving herself permission to shine. And the most beautiful part? I genuinely believe my story is only just beginning.
- Nav Parker, Mrs Nottingham UIM 2026
