I assumed I was interviewing a beauty queen, little was I aware I would meet a hero. It was 1958 when Marilyn Van Derbur was selected Miss America, while 50 million viewers watched on television. It was the most coveted honor of most girls' dreams at the time. Asked what the "pageant scene" entailed 50 years ago, Marilyn, whose last name now is Atler, laughed, "Are you kidding me? I didn't have a choice, my friends nominated me as Miss University of Colorado, which led to Miss Colorado by default and six months later I was in Atlantic City wondering what I was going to say and how I was going to put on that swimsuit."

Nothing ostentatious about Denver's Miss America. The only inkling of make-up Atler wore when she won the honor was a dab of lipstick. She continued on The Miss America Pageant trail as a television hostess for five years and became a national spokesperson for AT&T, breaking many barriers for women along the way.

She opened the door of the Denver home she shares with her husband Larry Atler with a smile and a hug. Sneaking a peek at her bookshelf I noticed prestigious awards such as "Woman of the Year" by the Business and Professional Women of Denver, and Colorado Women's Hall of Fame. A particular accolade beckoned my attention, "Most Inspirational Book" by Writer's Digest. Born with more than beauty, Atler has the brains and the courage to use her platform as Miss America to make a difference in lives all over the world.

Through her best-selling memoir Miss America By Day, Lessons Learned from Ultimate Betrayals and Unconditional Love, Atler told her story as a sexually abused child. In response to Atler's claims of abuse, a reporter said, "Why should we believe her?" Atler wanted to become invisible, but chose to use the injustice she endured to inspire and educate others. "If they weren't going to believe a 53-year-old woman, why would they believe a 4-year-old child?"

When Atler handed me a copy, I did not anticipate the journey the 550 pages would take me on. The metaphors laced in the narrative are gripping and the raw descriptions provoke a deep sense of discomfort, but never does the reader give up hope that Atler faces her past and survives. She radiates warmth, and as our conversation came to a close, she said something I would later read in her memoir, "Auna, don't pray for an easy life. Pray to be a strong person."