In one of Metro Manila’s exclusive villages, where opulence is often mistaken for distance, I met Sheila Romero. In a world where wealth is often mistaken for detachment, she proves that compassion can thrive at the very heart of privilege.
Her home—the manicured garden, the glistening pool, the aura of affluence—declared success. But the woman who emerged from that house to greet us wasn’t just a fixture of prosperity. She was, unmistakably, the soul of a movement.
Sheila Romero—businesswoman, wife, mother of five, cancer survivor—is the founder of the I Want to Share Foundation, a quiet revolution in the country’s landscape of charitable work. On Aug. 1, the foundation will host its second Charity Gala, “An Evening for Brave Warriors,” at Shangri-La The Fort, Bonifacio Global City. It promises fashion by celebrated Filipino designers Francis Libiran, Dennis Lustico, Ivar Aseron, and Michael Leyva, alongside a powerhouse art auction featuring Ramon Orlina, Elmer Borlongan, Daniel Dela Cruz, Manny Garibay, Jigger Cruz, Jinggoy Buensuceso, Yeo Kaa, and many more celebrated Filipino artists. But beyond its glamour, this is a night built on grit, grace and a growing culture of compassion—a culture stirred by one woman’s lived truth.
This gala is about performance and purpose.
From personal pain to public purpose
In 2020, when she was chairman of Globalport Terminals, Romero was diagnosed with breast cancer. While others might have recoiled in fear, she chose to face her diagnosis with resolve. Chemotherapy, surgery, emotional upheaval—all of it reshaped her, not just physically, but spiritually. And in that crucible of suffering, she found her calling: to help children with cancer.
The I Want to Share Foundation predates her illness, its roots stretching back to 2011 with Christmas gift-giving, orphanage visits, and relief efforts after disasters like Yolanda. But her encounter with cancer gave her advocacy a sharper focus, a more urgent mission. It was no longer about charity—it became a lifeline.
Not just a gala—a legacy
The August gala seeks to raise funds for Phase 2 of the 1st Charity Bone Marrow Transplant Unit at the Philippine General Hospital’s Cancer Institute (a legacy, the first in the country), including state-of-the-art infusion pumps, ongoing support for the Pediatric Hematology-Oncology Department, and awareness efforts for early cancer detection and survivorship. These are not abstract goals—they are tangible lifelines.
PGH is a public hospital, one that often stretches every peso and every resource. If their MRI machine breaks down, if a nurse needs additional allowance, if transportation to treatment is required, it is often the Foundation that fills the gap. “Even down to the ward’s Wi-Fi,” Romero says. “We don’t stop at ceremony—we sustain.”
That’s what makes I Want to Share different. It’s not a one-off. It’s year-round. And the children know it.
“They look forward to it,” Romero explains. “Every Christmas, every graduation. They remember. We rent togas. We give plaques. We celebrate every child who finishes chemotherapy.”
Last year, 155 children graduated from treatment. Each one, a victory against the odds.
Giving more than money
Romero is quick to downplay her role. “It’s not about me,” she insists. But it’s impossible to ignore her imprint. Her attention to detail. Her commitment to structure. Her ability to bring together the country’s best designers, artists, doctors, and philanthropists—and create something that transcends spectacle.
And perhaps most powerfully, her refusal to walk away.
Romero has been helping kids with cancer in PGH since 2015, so having had cancer was a catalyst to her lifelong commitment. She vowed never to leave the families of PGH’s pediatric cancer ward. “I committed. I owe it to Him,” she says, eyes firm with conviction. “This is my legacy. God gave me a second chance, and I am honored to live my purpose.”
That purpose is anchored not only in donations but in the sacred currency of time, empathy, and presence. “Anyone can write a check,” she says. “But it’s giving your time that’s hard. To text, to call, to follow up. That’s the real work. And that’s the culture we want to build.”
The culture of compassion
In a society where philanthropy can sometimes feel performative, I Want to Share is refreshingly earnest. It marries influence with intention. At its core, it is a culture forged in heartbreak, hope, and hard work.
It is rooted in the belief that survivorship is both a privilege and a right. That children, regardless of circumstance, deserve not just treatment, but dignity. That giving must evolve from an act of charity into a culture of care.
This is what the Aug. 1 gala offers: not just a seat at a glamorous table, but a place in a growing movement. A movement inspired by a woman who once sat in a doctor’s office with a diagnosis and turned it into a direction. A woman whose strength is not in her wealth, beauty, or business acumen, but in her extraordinary will to serve.
Romero didn’t just survive cancer; she emerged from it lit with purpose. And now, she gives others that same light, especially the smallest ones fighting the biggest battles.
On Aug. 1, join her. Not just for a night of fashion and fine art, but to help write stories of survival. To turn compassion into culture. And to say to every child with cancer: we are here. We will not leave. We will keep sharing hope.
