wrestling / Columns
Where My Women At? Voices of Female Wrestling Fans
Image Credit: WWE
Over the Spring and Summer, Len Archibald will be a 411Mania guest columnist analyzing the state of women’s professional wrestling in North America.
First off, let’s get this out of the way: I am a full-blooded heterosexual man. I do not reserve myself to believe I share the experiences of or can fully understand or appreciate what it is like to be a woman – so understand my words below all come from a male point of view, who grew up with “The Male Gaze” ingrained into my psyche. My goal is to instigate intelligent discussion and discover who our female fans at 411 and beyond are.
Also, do not think this op-ed is putting myself on a pedestal of self-righteousness. I am not perfect – I have engaged in conversations and marginalized women in the industry myself in the past. I am not absolved from my own words and actions. I need to do better and apply that to become the change I want to see.
“Wrestling is male soap opera.”
That phrase has lived rent-free in my head over the past few weeks — not because it’s inaccurate, but because it’s said with a smirk, as if melodrama was an inherently lesser art form. And more pointedly: as if women weren’t supposed to like it.
Let’s cut to the chase: I want to know where my girls at? (sways to 702)
Not just in the ring — where, thankfully, women are now main-eventing WrestleMania and headlining PPVs — but in the crowd, in the columns, in the creative rooms, in the podcasts, behind the dirt sheets and YouTube thumbnails. Where are the female fans here at 411Mania? Why do we see so very few women leave comments and share their opinions? Why are the live chats always sausagefests? This is not virtue signaling – I genuinely would like to know. Where are the women who watch wrestling with the same fire, the same encyclopedic knowledge, the same passion I’ve seen in so many male fans?
A couple of my female friends in the U.S. are major wrestling fans – in fact, one of them is involved in a heavy relationship with one of my best friends – who we met at a wrestling show! Her best friend is an even MORE rabid fan, despite the fact her husband isn’t that big into it. She attends shows anyways. She is a hardcore fan and has been pretty much her entire life, consuming everything WWE, AEW, TNA, New Japan and more – an encyclopedia of wrestling knowledge.
My sister casually watches – is aware more of the bigger names in the industry. Her daughter, my little niece, though? Don’t tell her Bianca Belair isn’t the best in the world. She will FIGHT YOU. One of my co-workers is a casual wrestling fan – in love with Rhea Ripley, Cody Rhodes and IYO Sky and can’t stand Jey Uso (she always thinks of the SNL “YEET” skit when thinking of Jey…which is fair.) What is also fascinating…despite the fact she is a casual fan and doesn’t watch the promotion – she is very much aware of AEW and can name off some of their top stars like MJF, Mercedes Mone and Darby Allin.
These female fans always been there – but honestly…this industry has not always allowed room to listen to them respectfully. This is changing. And we need to continue to flip the script.
Silenced Pop: A Short History of Shushed Voices
Professional wrestling, since its carnival days, has always been a mirror of culture — a distorted, exaggerated mirror, sure, but a reflection nonetheless. For most of the 20th century, that reflection was as masculine as a steel cage match on a Saturday night. Women, when present, were eye candy, valets, or catfighting distractions between main events “the real fans” paid to see. Mildred Burke, Mae Young and The Fabulous Moolah were the outliers…and even then, it is impossible to reconcile the treatment of female performers during this period, especially with the tainted history of The Fabulous Moolah when it comes to abusing her own female talent.
Even during the boom periods — the Rock ‘n’ Wrestling era, the Attitude Era, the Ruthless Aggression years — women were often used as props to advance men’s stories. Trish Stratus getting barked at or being the prize of a $1 (Canadian) bet. Torrie Wilson in several bikini contests. Edge and Lita’s Live Sex Celebration. Lita getting pregnant and miscarrying. Dawn Marie and Al Wilson’s wedding. “I’ll take them both…I’M HARDCORE!” It’s easy to laugh now — we’re all in on the absurdity — but those moments also sent a message: this wasn’t for you, unless you were a man, or willing to be a caricature of a woman.
And yet, women still show up. Cheering for The Rock. Swooning for Jeff Hardy. They screamed for Lita, idolized Chyna, and clung to every word when Mickie James stared at Trish Stratus like she was the sun. But these fans rarely had platforms. Forums were often toxic. Comment sections hostile. “Casual” misogyny was the default language. If you were a woman online talking wrestling in 2005, odds are you got told to name five moves before you were taken seriously. Trust me, I have been part of the “IWC” since inception, things were very ugly for a while at the start.
But…We do know better now. Right…?
Wrestling with the Boys’ Club
For decades, wrestling journalism and analysis was the domain of men — mostly white, mostly straight, mostly convinced that having every Tokyo Dome match rating memorized was equivalent to wisdom. Don’t get me wrong — I’ve read every star rating Dave Meltzer has published since Big Van Vader walked the ramp in WCW. But ask yourself: where is the female Meltzer or SRS?? Where are the women’s voices who aren’t just guests on male-dominated podcasts, but are the ones holding the mic?
You know what women are in wrestling media? Rare. Often interrupted. Occasionally mocked. And absolutely necessary.
When women do break through — whether it’s journalists like Kristen Ashley or podcasters like Denise Salcedo — it’s not because they’re women. It’s because they’re damn good. But there’s still a gap. A chasm, even. Not of talent, but of opportunity. We need more. More perspectives. More cultural lenses. More life experiences shaping how we view this artform. Because wrestling is art. And you can’t analyze art if you’re only looking at it through a keyhole made by men.
It is great to see Katie Linendoll co–host with Sam Roberts on the “State of Wrestling” and Megan Morant who co-hosts the Raw Recap with Roberts – but why can’t they have their own singular platform like fellow Canuck Alicia Atout, known for working with AEW, Impact, MLW, Beyond Wrestling, and the indie scene and hosts her own “AMBY Interviews” on YouTube?
One of the new YouTube channels I have discovered is The Normies, a reaction channel (shout out to Ft. Wayne, IN where my old psych resided!) Some of their episodes have their female reactors watch female matches. I know some YT reaction channels are even more predetermined than what happens in the ring, but it is obvious these women are genuine. It has been fascinating observing them slowly understand the mechanics of professional wrestling and its storytelling elements. It is fascinating seeing who they gravitate to and how their fandom simply grows and grows with every new reaction. You can tell with each new match they watch, they are more and more excited and they fall deeper into the rabbit hole. I want to see more of this!
Voices in the Void: Women in Wrestling Media
To understand where we are — and where we’re going — it’s important to look at the women who’ve already carved space for themselves in wrestling media, even when that space was small, conditional, or painfully temporary. Women have long stood just outside the ring — holding microphones, conducting interviews, narrating storylines, often playing the role of support to a male lead. They weren’t pushed as analysts, historians, or insiders. They were accessories to narrative. But even within those confines, some left fingerprints on the industry.
One of the original “First Ladies of Wrestling,” Missy Hyatt wasn’t just eye candy — she had charisma, moxie, and insider knowledge working with Mean Gene Okerlund. In an era when women were expected to “stand there and smile,” Hyatt’s mic work was snappy, confrontational, and often more compelling than the angles themselves.
Terri Runnels, through The Highlight Reel and segments like WWF Byte This, played a proto-analyst role — facilitating discussions, creating tension, and guiding feuds with subtle but smart narrative nudges.
But more than any woman before her, Renee Paquette changed the game to occupy the space traditionally reserved for male analysts. She hosted Talking Smack with intelligence and unpredictability, gave life to post-show formats, and broke down matches without a wink or a nudge. Her promotion to the RAW commentary table in 2018 wasn’t just symbolic — it was historic. She brought presence, professionalism, and credibility. That she only lasted a year on commentary speaks to how deeply ingrained wrestling’s gender expectations still are (was there room for improvement? Sure…but WWE allowed worse commentators to have longer tenure.)
It was Renee’s departure from WWE that made her impact even clearer. Since then, she’s thrived as a podcast host and interviewer (The Sessions), often conducting some of the most revealing, humanizing interviews with wrestling’s biggest names. When Jon Moxley cries, when MJF drops the kayfabe, when Mercedes Mone speaks from the heart — it’s usually to Renee. She has opened the doors for Cathy Kelly and Kayla Braxton in WWE to have more prominent roles.
Even in AEW, where inclusivity is often championed, female voices in the booth or in media roles remain sparse. Dasha Gonzalez, Lexy Nair, and RJ City’s female counterparts serve largely as straight interviewers or “pass the mic” conduits, not analysts. This isn’t about tokenism. It’s about access. About credibility. About representation where narratives are built.
Fans Who Became Fighters
Here’s the poetic twist: some of the most impactful female figures in wrestling today were fans first.
Bayley sobbed in the crowd watching her idol Lita. Mercedes Mone devoured Joshi tapes and Eddie Guerrero matches. Liv Morgan grew up on WWE like it was gospel. AJ Lee read fan fiction and made it canon. Becky Lynch broke into the business after watching Survivor Series with her brother. These aren’t outsiders — they are us. They were the Tumblr stans, the fantasy bookers, the women writing columns in notebooks they never published.
And they became the revolution. And in doing so, they flipped the script on what it meant to be a wrestling fan, a woman in wrestling, and a wrestling star.
Let’s be real: WWE’s “Women’s Revolution” began as a hashtag. It wasn’t born in a boardroom. It was demanded — by fans, male and female, disgusted by Divas matches cut for time and stories that never passed a Bechdel test. Stephanie McMahon may have initially been the face to introduce the “Women’s Evolution” and gave it corporate polish, but if we, especially those female voices, did not make their voices heard?
We were rewarded with Sasha vs. Bayley in Brooklyn, Charlotte vs. Asuka at WrestleMania, Becky Lynch becoming The Man — and we, male and female fans – didn’t want to go back.
But revolution is never a single battle. It’s a campaign. And even now, as Rhea Ripley, IYO Sky, Bianca Belair, Stephanie Vaquer, Toni Storm and Mercedes Mone torch arenas with main event skill, we still need the world around the ring to reflect that progress.
We need more columns written by women. Pro Wrestling History archived by women. Moves rated by women. Stories analyzed by women. Booking dissected by women. Commentary spoken by women. Promotions owned by women (shout out to Athena for her Metroplex Wrestling company hosting an all-female show beginning in August.)
So where my girls at? They’re here. Have we done all we could to do a better job of making space — not just for their fandom, but their voices?
Look around. Go to a wrestling show. Sit in the crowd. The little girl with the glowing Bianca braid? She’s watching. The teen in the Rhea t-shirt, screaming louder than her boyfriend? She’s invested. The mother, quietly smiling while her daughter chants “This is awesome!”? She gets it.
Maybe the question isn’t where my girls at? The question is: are we finally ready to listen? Because if we are, the revolution won’t just be televised.
It’ll be authored.
…And as always, Fuck Cancer. 🧬🩻🏥🩸
HAPPY PRIDE MONTH🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️
Agree or disagree? Think I am insane? Leave a comment!
Follow me on Instagram!
Follow me on Bluesky!
SUPPORT THE CANADIAN CANCER SOCIETY
SUPPORT THE AMERICAN ASSOCIATION FOR CANCER RESEARCH
SUPPORT CANCER RESEARCH UK
