When CJ Opiaza was crowned Miss Grand International in May 2025, the moment was meant to be triumphant—for her, the Philippines, and a pageant shaken by scandal. But beneath the glitter of the crown was a reality much grubbier than a standing ovation.
The coronation arrived not at the conclusion of a classic reign, but following an extremely publicised resignation. Rachel Gupta, India’s first Miss Grand International (MGI), quit just eight months into her term. Her excuse? A went-viral Instagram clip that unveiled a claimed turmoil of maltreatment, body-shaming, and horrid living conditions within the MGI organization.
The glamour wore off quickly while the entire world was watching.
Queen to Quit
Rachel Gupta’s fairytale ended in protest.
In early May 2025, Gupta uploaded a 12-minute video, shot from what she claimed was a “temporary dorm-style unit,” reliving months of quiet, humiliation, and emotional distress during her time as queen. In it, she claimed to have been referred to as “too fat for gowns,” being denied proper meals on official visits, and being treated like a “decorated puppet” rather than a respected queen.
“I wanted to represent India. But I ended up fighting for my dignity,” she explained. The post went viral within India, Southeast Asia, and the global pageant circle. It trended on X (formerly Twitter) within hours, followed by endorsements from former queens of pageants and industry professionals.
MGI fired back with a brief statement: Gupta had been “terminated for cause” and had “violated contractual obligations by way of defamation and spurious allegations.”
Crown passed, Crown Questioned
In the midst of the chaos, CJ Opiaza—the Philippines’ first runner-up—was officially crowned Miss Grand International 2024. A seasoned pageant contender, Opiaza had already gained accolades for her poise and articulacy in the past. But her rise to the top, while historic in nature, was subjected to intense public debate.
The newly titled queen remained silent for the most part in her first days, issuing only a brief statement of thanks to the organization and saying it was “an honor to continue carrying the crown.”
“Congratulations,” Gupta said in another video posted directed to CJ. “But remain curious. You are gifted, and you have worked hard for this—but don’t let anyone make you feel insignificant. You know what I’m talking about.”
For many, it was less a welcome and more a warning.
A system exposed
CJ Opiaza’s win may be historic, but it’s also complicated. It symbolizes opportunity and resilience—but also complicity, depending on who tells the story.
And as the pageant world continues to grapple with how it treats its titleholders, questions remain: Who protects the queens after coronation night? What happens when the spotlight dims?
Beauty contests are usually about makeovers—about turning dreams into podiums. But for Rachel Gupta, the makeover was agony. And for CJ Opiaza, it’s too early to tell if she can reign supreme—or only smile for the camera under stress.
One thing’s certain: the time of silent queens is gone. The tiara can continue to sparkle, but now everyone wants to know at what price.
