EPISODE 23 THE BUILD

WrestleMania 35. It was a nice number. It seemed like a good year for women to be the main event. We were still running hot. People still cared. But one can never bank on anything until the actual day. Card subject to change is a very real thing.

However, on Sunday the twenty-fourth of March 2019, I got my answer.

I had just finished a show in Buffalo, New York, and had a nearly seven-hour drive to Boston for Raw.

It was on that drive that I got a text from Vince to myself, Charlotte, and Ronda.

I pulled over to the side of the road to read the most glorious text I had ever received:

YOU WILL BE THE MAIN EVENT OF WRESTLEMANIA 35. WE ARE GOING TO ANNOUNCE IT TOMORROW. CONGRATULATIONS!

Holy shit.

What am I reading? Is this real? Did I hit a deer on the drive and I’m deep in a coma, dreaming all of this?

I shook my head. I wasn’t misreading it or misinterpreting it, was I? I didn’t think so. There was only one way you could interpret that. We were the main event of WrestleMania. Historical. First time ever.

I needed to tell someone. As great as this little dance party I was throwing myself alone in the car on the side of the 495 was, there was too much excitement to keep to myself.

I texted Colby: “Vince just texted! We’re the main event of WrestleMania, they’re going to announce it tomorrow.”

“That’s interesting. I wonder why they would announce it.”

“Because it’s never been done before and it’s a big deal!”

I wanted someone to share in my excitement, but I wasn’t getting the reaction I wanted from him. Of course, I was being selfish. I didn’t consider how upsetting that news would be for him. He had always wanted to main event WrestleMania and he had a chance to do it this year… until his girlfriend took it away from him.

I became cold and distant, hurt that he didn’t congratulate me right away. There was still at least three more hours on my drive. He was already in the hotel in Boston, waiting for me. But I had plenty of time to find a new one for myself.

“Yeah, I suppose this year is different. I think I’ll stay somewhere else tonight. It’ll be late when I get in.”

“What? No. What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I just gave you the biggest news of my life and you didn’t even say congratulations.”

“Sorry, you know how I like to analyze things, especially when it comes to wrestling.”

“This isn’t one of those things. This is the biggest deal of my life,” I responded, upset.

“You’re not staying somewhere else. Just come here.”

I arrived three hours later. Still cold and distant.

“Why are you getting so upset about this? I’m sorry, I should have said congratulations; it was my own jealousy.”

“Because I feel like you don’t think I deserve it,” I said through tears.

He hugged me tight.

Though the fact was, it wasn’t him not believing I deserved it. I wasn’t sure I did.

There was my imposter syndrome again. A syndrome that is maybe never more rampant than in the sport of professional wrestling. A profession where you literally have to fake it to make it.

In an industry filled with larger-than-life characters, muscle-bound athletes, and charismatic enigmas, how was this once pudgy, awkward girl from Dublin going to be on the same marquee that once boasted “Stone Cold Steve Austin vs. The Rock”?

However, in good news, the doctors had switched my dad’s medication and his liver was rejuvenating rapidly. He was going to be allowed to travel after all!

My whole family was going to be able to make it out!

The only problem was that I had so many appearances that week, I would barely be able to see anyone.

When I got to the hotel for WrestleMania week, it was jam-packed, filled with wrestlers and fans alike. I barely had time to put my bags in my room before I was shuttled off to the warehouse in Connecticut for our match rehearsal.

Charlotte, TJ, our ref, Spider, and I sat in the warehouse waiting for Ronda, whose driver had taken her to the wrong spot.

While we waited, all running on fumes after months of going nonstop in the lead-up to this historic match, TJ read out the creative direction for the match. I was to win via arm bar on Ronda and me and her should barely touch. This would leave Charlotte to be relied upon heavily. Hearing the direction, Charlotte was on the verge of tears as TJ went on.

“It just feels like I’m the third wheel!” she cried.

While TJ and I looked at each other, both considering how to carefully and compassionately broach the situation, Spider, flamboyant and brash, blurted out, “Bitch, you are the third wheel! That’s the heat!”

He was right. HHH had made a career out of being the one in the middle, whether it be between Rock and Austin or anyone else who was over. But that made his job no less important. If anything, it made him even more valuable, as he could be inserted anywhere and added value.

Eventually we came up with a few ideas of false finishes. One idea was that I have Ronda in an arm bar and she is almost about to tap when Charlotte comes in and stops it.

When Ronda finally arrived over an hour later, TJ gave her the rundown of the ideas.

“And then it looks like you’re about to tap, but—” he explained.

“Oh no. My mom would never talk to me again if it looked like I was about to tap.”

TJ and I looked at each other. If her mom wouldn’t talk to her if she looked like she was going to tap, we would have a hard time selling her on actually tapping for the finale.

“Okay, we’ll come back to that.”

I didn’t feel the need to fight it. Whether it be a pin, a roll-up, or a submission, I was going to be walking out of there holding two championships in the air, having been the first woman to win the main event of WrestleMania.

We left with one or two things nailed down, but the majority of the match was still up in the air.

By the time I had driven the hour back to the hotel I was filled with doubt about how good this match was going to be. With all of our busy schedules, it didn’t look like we would have a moment to talk about it before the big day.

Colby held me while every doubt and insecurity I had ever had about wrestling and my ability gushed out of my mouth like a waterfall.

“It’s not about the moves,” he reminded me. “The story is all there; you just have to tell it.”

He was right, of course. He had the best mind for wrestling of anyone I knew. And even though I was in the spot that he wanted, he wanted me to do my best and own it.

But it felt so big. Because it was. It could change the wrestling business for women forever.

While the next few days were a blur of appearances, early-morning media, and late-night shoots, I was grateful to come back to Colby every night and have that comfort. I had never had that before, nor had I wanted that before.

At first, I was even reluctant to share a room with him that week. I was used to my own way of doing things, which is to isolate myself, dwell, write, and concentrate on envisioning how I want everything to go. I viewed having someone else there as a distraction. Not him, though. He was the greatest addition to my life and the best decision I ever made.