Why am I doing this?

Why drag?

It's a fair question.

Actually... why drag king? Why spend hours gluing rhinestones onto costumes, painting on a beard, stuffing a suitcase full of sequins, and willingly putting yourself in front of a room full of strangers?

Well... strap in. (Or strap on. I don't judge.)

The obvious answer is because it's fun.

There is absolutely nothing like stepping onto a stage, hearing the music start, and becoming someone bigger than yourself. For a few minutes, the outside world disappears. Bills don't exist. Stress doesn't exist. It's just me, the audience, and Hurricane Max E Pad blowing through the building.

And honestly?

I love every second of it.

I love getting dressed up.

I love creating costumes.

I love figuring out how to make people laugh, cheer, or hopefully feel something they weren't expecting.

The stage has become my playground.

But if it were only about the glitter, I'd probably get bored eventually.

Drag gives me something I haven't found anywhere else.

It gives me permission to explore.

Some nights I want to be a suave gentleman straight out of the 1920s.

Other nights I want to be an over-the-top rock star covered in rhinestones.

Sometimes I want to lean into masculinity.

Sometimes I want to blur the lines completely.

The beautiful thing is... nobody gets to tell me I'm doing it wrong.

That's incredibly freeing.

Drag has also become an emotional outlet in ways I never expected.

There are feelings that are hard to explain in everyday life.

Joy.

Anger.

Frustration.

Confidence.

Grief.

On stage, somehow those emotions make sense.

A performance can say things that words never could. I've found myself processing pieces of my own life through characters, music, and storytelling without even realizing that's what I was doing.

Then there's the community.

This one might be the biggest reason of all.

I've found people who celebrate each other's successes, help each other get ready backstage, lend costumes, fix wigs, calm nerves, and somehow turn complete strangers into family.

Whether you're a king, a queen, a creature, or somewhere beautifully in between, there's room for you.

That kind of community is rare.

I don't take it for granted.

I also love what drag represents.

Every time someone steps on stage and unapologetically becomes exactly who they want to be, they're quietly challenging the idea that we all have to fit into neat little boxes.

That's powerful.

And if someone in the audience leaves feeling a little more comfortable being themselves because of something they saw that night...

Well...

That's even better.

The funny thing is, I'm still figuring out who Max E Pad is.

Every performance teaches me something new.

Every show reveals another piece of the character—and another piece of myself.

Maybe that's why I don't have a perfect answer to "Why drag?"

Because it's never just been one reason.

It's creativity.

It's community.

It's healing.

It's self-discovery.

It's making people laugh.

It's making people think.

It's giving myself permission to take up space.

Most of all...

It's the first thing I've found in a long time that makes me feel completely, unapologetically alive.

And I have a feeling I'm just getting started.