it's not all fake
Becky Lynch is a legend in the WWE. She has broken barriers and been part of the group who changed the face of women’s wrestling in the most powerful wrestling organization in the U.S. She’s been the women’s champion, she’s headlined Wrestlemania, she’s help two championship belts at once. She is The Man. But she hasn’t always felt like that champion. That was something she had to learn.
Becky isn’t the one you would pick to be the hero. She isn’t the biggest or the strongest. She wasn’t born into a wrestling family. She was raised in Dublin and didn’t even try wrestling until she was a teenager, hooked on the wrestling shows she watched with her older brother. She had to finagle her way into wrestling classes, where she was usually the only girl, and work harder than everyone else just to get a fraction of respect that others got. She wasn’t a natural in the ring, but she worked and trained to get better. She did have something though, a spark, a tenacity, a hunger, that others could see and connect with.
Becky spent years fighting, in the ring and out, with injuries, with insecurities, with friends and family, and with disordered eating. Her mother wanted her to finish school and go to college. She wanted to wrestle. At first, it went well, with Becky traveling the world, working the independent wrestling circuit or in Japan, meeting other wrestlers and loving the experience of it all. But slowly her insecurity ate her up inside, and she had to take some time away from wrestling to find a new path.
She tried following in her mother’s footsteps as a flight attendant. She went to acting school. She got cast as a stuntwoman. But her heart kept calling her to wrestling. And when two good friends had gotten a chance to audition for the WWE, Becky decided it was maybe what she wanted after all and auditioned herself. It took a lot of hard work, but she was accepted and moved to Florida to train there. It would still be years before she made it into a wrestling ring for the company, and even longer before she became a champion, but the audience fell in love with her and pushed her on to stardom.
I was not one of those people who grew up watching wrestling. I thought it was silly and couldn’t be bothered. But then I fell for a man who was a wrestler in high school and though he didn’t have ambitions to be a professional wrestler, he still watched the WWE every week and most pay-per-views. Against my will, I was subjected to Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown and Wrestlemania and the Royal Rumble and all the rest of the craziness. And against my will. I got sucked in to the stories. I fell for these people too, wanting the babyfaces and the underdogs to win and the heels to be punished. I still fall for all that, even knowing it’s all an act. I can’t help it. I love a good story.
When I started watching wrestling, women were still mainly ornamental, but within a few years, things started to change. Women’s wrestling was taken seriously, and I was cheering that on with all my might. It still feels important, and I love that Becky talks about that in her book and is proud of the company for making that change. I watched her be a part of that, and I cheered her on. I still do, whenever she shows up and makes her speeches and fights in the ring and shows us that you really can live the life of your dreams. I am proud to be a fan of The Man, and having read her book, I will be cheering all that louder.
She is incredibly honest and vulnerable with her story, about being a rebellious teenager and an insecure champion and a problematic friend. Hearing about her heartbreaks and her struggles makes her even more real, and such an inspiration to anyone who has ever felt odd, lonely, set apart, different, too fat, too small, too skinny, too loud, not enough, or too much. The world is full of girls and women who know that feeling all too well, and I would love nothing more than to see them all reading this book, so they can see that they too have that strength inside of them to write their own story, to create their own ending, and to find the people who cheer them on to their greatness.
Clearly, it can be done. Becky Lynch found a way to fight until all her dreams came true. And we love her for it, because she makes us believe that we can do it too. Rebecca Quin, Becky Lynch, Lasskicker, The Man, Becky Two-Belts—no matter what name you call her, she helped change the face of women’s wrestling, and the world will never be the same as it was.
Egalleys for Becky Lynch: The Man were provided by Gallery Books through NetGalley, with many thanks.
