Or why the last time is now.

After being enticed by endless ads during martial arts films, I started watching wrestling roughly ten years ago. I found myself sitting down in front of my television on Wednesday nights for Lucha Underground (RIP El Rey). I thrive on routine, so while I wasn’t initially interested, the promise of structure and continuity on a weeknight that lacked a ritual seemed appealing.

Soon, I was talked into watching WWE programming. The beautiful people doing athletic feats in fancy ringwear (especially the women) drew me in. However, the suspension of disbelief required to accept the storylines was and always has been a little beyond my grasp. To this day, I spend a lot of time asking LOGIC questions in situations where there is none, much to the chagrin of my viewing buddies.

ANYWAY. Roman Reigns (newly solo) and his Superman fisting action had me head over heels. Slowly, my week filled with action. RAW, Smackdown, Lucha Underground, New Japan Pro Wrestling, Ring of Honor and TNA took up most of my week, filling a hole previously occupied by (un)real housewives of various cities. It’s worth a mention that at this time, my only non-wrestling television habit was RuPaul’s Drag Race. Wrestling’s glamorous costumes, exaggerated personalities and temporary alliances served as comforting similarities that wrapped a tidy bow of cohesion around my weekly schedule.

Eventually, AEW would take the place of the dearly departed Lucha Underground. It would attempt to directly and intentionally address some of the more “fat positive womanist watches television with a critical eye” critiques I had of WWE programming: Why is are the shows so white? Why are the men given more legitimacy? Why is the only plus size wrestler being body shamed for a storyline, encouraging negative behavior of fans? Why are the women expected to be sexualized (except when they are deliberately not)? Why is the diversity of the talent pipeline not being reflected in my viewing options? Why rampant nepotism?

This ushered in the current era of reluctant WWE viewing. Eliminating the E’s programming would have sent my television schedule (and routine) into chaos and mystery, so I continued being sat in front of my TV several nights a week out of habit and the need for community with those I watched with. I had been struggling with disillusioned viewing for years, but it wasn’t until recently that I felt compelled to do something about it beyond complaining about representation, bloated programming blocs and convoluted storylines.

I had a number of complaints, some petty, some legit. Some of them include: WWE’s relationship with Saudi Arabia, the general decline in quality of programming, the increased availability of competition (especially “AEW does what WWE (Ninten)don’t.”), the amount and investment of time spent watching routinely unrewarding television, body/gender/racial diversity, the anxiety-inducing botches and my personal sadness about the (well-deserved) retirement of one Doctor of Thuganomics, the headmaster of his house, Make-A-Wish machine and the love of my life: John Cena.

This summer’s post-Vince return of Brock Lesnar (combined with Cena’s imminent exit) would be what ultimately cemented my choice to sever ties with WWE. ~*~flounces away~*~ So after Cena wrestles his final match this Saturday (13 December 2025 if you’re reading from the future) - I’m breaking up with WWE. I can’t deal with the loss of Cena AND the platforming of someone involved in an ongoing sex trafficking scandal.

I wanted to see this particular storyline to the end, since Cena has been ubiquitous the entire duration of my wrestling watching career (this shit is a job), but a true ending (something that rarely happens in my experience) is a fantastic time to stop. I’ve started to find other things to watch and do, to avoid the chaos of being a total free agent multiple nights a week.

This is a genuine breakup and I’m keeping the mementos; the oversized t-shirts stuffed in dresser drawers, action figures lining dusty shelves (my Dean Ambrose figure talked and as the battery died, it would go off on it’s own - growling about his mind being a dangerous place unprompted in the middle of the night), the ridiculous crushes on ridiculous characters, memories of a family outing to a live show, the temporary break from reality during the tough times of COVID, the fantasy of goodness and sportsmanship and meritocracy and most importantly - the connections I’ve made through immersing myself in this culture. Hell (yeah), you can call me this Sunday and my phone will still ring with the iconic horns.

I will still root for all my faves, still follow the drama (both onscreen and in the locker room) but from afar, so as not to give any more of my precious eyeball time to the beast. I will no longer work myself into a shoot. But I’m definitely not done with wrestling. I’ve invested too much time and it holds too much sentimental and legitimate entertainment value. In the decade I’ve been watching, the industry (in my EXPERT opinion) has changed exponentially and when it’s good? IT’S GOOD.

Are you a lapsed fan or newbie? Are you asking me for suggestions on where to start? The answer is Toni Storm. Doesn’t matter what the question is. The answer is Toni Storm.

Enjoyed small butt, big frown #5? Tip me so I can buy a Timeless Toni Storm action figure.