People often try to place others into categories. A student belongs in the classroom. An athlete belongs on the competition floor. A drag performer belongs on stage.
For Sheng Mai, those boundaries never made much sense.
A political science student, dancesport athlete, drag performer, and advocate, Sheng Mai built her identity across spaces that many people assume do not belong together. She is among the few drag performers to compete in the women’s category in local dancesport, a space rarely associated with someone who also performs in drag. Over time, she learned that the challenge was never balancing these roles. The challenge was learning to be fully seen.
“There were people who thought I had to choose between being a political science student, a dancesport athlete, or a drag performer,” she said. “I continued competing, studying, organizing, and performing. Eventually, I realized I did not need to prove anything because my life was already the proof.”
Among all her roles, drag pushed her the furthest. In school, success is often measured through grades and achievements. In sports, performance and discipline take center stage. Drag demanded something else entirely, something more personal.
“Drag asks you to stand in front of people and be seen exactly as you are,” she said. “The hardest challenge was learning how to be comfortable with being seen.”
That lesson shaped the way she understands Pride today.
When she was younger, Pride felt like a celebration of identity and belonging. As she grew older, she began seeing a larger picture. Pride became connected to history, community, and the people who fought for rights that many enjoy today.
“Pride reminds us of the people who fought for the rights we have today and the challenges that still exist,” she said. “It is a celebration of how far we have come and a reminder that there is still work to do.”
For Sheng Mai, visibility remains part of that work.
As a political science student, she understands how representation shapes public life. She believes LGBTQIA+ people deserve to be present in schools, workplaces, leadership positions, and public spaces. Visibility, she explained, goes beyond simply being present. It means being recognized, heard, and included.
Her experience in drag strengthened that belief.
Many people see drag through makeup, costumes, and performance. Sheng Mai sees something deeper. She describes it as an art form that combines storytelling, fashion, music, performance, and social commentary.
“Many people see the makeup first, but they often miss the message behind it,” she said.
That message became clearer during performances at the UP Cebu Day of Indignation and the September 21 Bahaon sa Colon rally. Those experiences showed her how art creates conversation and gives voice to issues that matter.
The most meaningful moments, though, often happen after the performance ends.
“The most rewarding part is hearing people tell me that they felt seen because of a performance,” she said. “Knowing that someone found confidence, hope, or comfort because they saw themselves reflected in my work is incredibly meaningful.”
Those encounters remind her that representation carries real impact. A performance lasts a few minutes. The confidence it gives someone can last far longer.
Today, Sheng Mai hopes people remember more than the costumes or choreography. She hopes they remember how they felt. “If someone walks away feeling inspired to be more authentic or more compassionate, then I feel that the performance has truly succeeded.”
For the young queer kid from Siargao she once was, her message remains simple: stop making yourself smaller to make other people comfortable.
Pride begins with visibility. It begins with accepting every part of yourself. Most importantly, it begins with taking up space without apology.
Photography Summer Demol
