Editor's note: This is an op ed! For those og you who don't know what that is, wikipedia defines it as a short column that represents the strong, informed, and focused opinion of a writer on an issue of relevance to a targeted audience. It is a written prose piece which expresses the opinion of an author or entity with no affiliation with the publication's editorial board.
“Justice is about making sure that being polite is not the same thing as being quiet. In fact, oftentimes, the most righteous thing you can do is shake the table.” ~ Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez
Hi. My name is Molly Belle, and I have a confession.
I like professional wrestling.
*Pause for audible gasp*
For a long time, all I wrote were features. I highlighted the people, matches, and stories that made me feel things. I liked doing that and people seemed to genuinely enjoy reading my work as much as I genuinely enjoyed writing the words. It was special and it will remain so in the future, right here and only on Fightful.com.
However, in a recent piece, I felt compelled to stray from what had become my norm. I wrote about an opinion I had. This was not a popular decision among the bottom feeders of wrestling Twitter, as trolls everywhere abandoned their bridges and flocked to tell the woman with an opinion just how wrong she was.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been attacked for thinking thoughts and sending them out into the world. But this was the first time the pitchfork-wielding troll army couldn’t seem to agree on one single reason why I had wronged so many of them on a deeply personal level. It would have been amusing if not for the knowledge that when they were finished with me, they would surely target someone else, as this is what they do. I may have let it go without a second thought, but their next target may take things much more personally than I did.
As it so happens, I do indeed have a second thought. I have many thoughts. I’m lucky enough to have a platform that supports those thoughts and encourages me to share them. So, while I wish I could feed my work directly to the eternally unhappy attention-seeking individuals it upsets so much, something tells me they’ll find it anyway, and that makes me happy.
The opinion piece in question wasn’t even that radically controversial. I wrote about Ric Flair. Enough said. As it seems to go on social media, the section of people angry at my article weren’t even angry about what I wrote. They were angry at who wrote it and who I wrote it for.
I work hard. I pour my heart not only into each feature, but each word. I carefully construct each sentence, reading them back to myself to make sure I have the cadence just so, even if no one else reads it the way I intend. Every single final product I send for publication is an extension of myself. They mean the absolute world to me.
The site that publishes my work is filled with people who work hard too. I’d wager it might be the hardest working and most dedicated group of individuals in wrestling media. I’m absolutely biased and am so without shame. I know these people. I can literally feel the passion and beating heart in their work. I see the hours upon hours they put in. It’s not easy, but they do it because they love professional wrestling to their very cores. And it shows. Every single day.
I say all of that to say one thing. People unwilling to do hard work abhor those working harder and achieving more than they are willing to. Some level of hatred comes with writing the articles I do where I do. Some more comes because I am just a mostly happy human being wishing that same happiness for others. Some people hate that with all they have. That is perhaps the most confoundingly silly part of this whole thing. As
ridiculous as all of that is, that’s the part I can live with. I may be naïve, but I’m not so naïve to assume any of that is avoidable.
What I can’t live with are the litany of other excuses to hate me and what I do.
Some of these reasons can be chalked up to sheer laziness and gullibility. I beg you all to actually read the words people write. These articles may only take a few minutes to read, but I promise you that they didn’t take just a few minutes to write. At least mine don’t. So many misunderstandings and so much confusion could be avoided with just a few minutes of time. But lots won’t give it.
I do see the humor in writing what I just did, as those I’m pleading to didn’t make it near this far. They definitely judged me by the title alone and are surely eating me alive in the comments or have screenshotted something I wrote out of context and are taking turns showcasing their ignorance for all to see. All except me though, because then they’d have to have an actual conversation with a woman who knows more about wrestling than they ever will.
And that’s the thing, isn’t it?
I’d much rather be hated for what I have to say than discredited entirely. If you only knew how much I put into the work that I do. It’s not the first time I’ve been made to feel as if my voice wasn’t worth as much simply because I do not have a penis. Far from it. It won’t be the last either.
That sticks with me though, as much as I’d rather it didn’t. Hate me. Attack me. Say things intended to make me feel small. If your life is so sad and meaningless that you have to resort to hate over an opinion about professional wrestling, I feel sorry for you. I truly do. But you know what else? Everything you do, everything you say, and every single hurtful jab you’ll ever throw, means only one thing.
I’m in your head. I’ll stay there too because I’m really good at what I do. And you can be sure that I’m planting my flag on that.
I’m not going anywhere. When I sent my Flair piece off for publication, I honestly thought it would be a one time thing. I wasn’t sure how people would react to my doing something a little differently. Perhaps some thought the reaction, the direct messages, and the nasty comments would persuade the girl who wrote about liking wrestling to stop doing just that.
If anything, what you’ve done is shown me that what I did worked. I took a chance with an opinion that was shared by many, and I shook the WHOLE damn table. You can bet your asses I’m far from finished doing just that.
Professional wrestling is supposed to be fun. We’re supposed to like it. The whole business depends on us liking it, to be honest. They. Need. Us. And we’re much louder together than we are alone.
The fact that I have a vagina and a few strong constructive opinions should not exclude me from trying my hardest, with the tiny voice I have, to help make professional wrestling the best it can be. It doesn’t always have to be such a fight. But rest assured, I will fight for the things I love. I always have and I always will. I may be little, but I’m scrappy. And I never give up.
Some words from a powerful Lily Allen song, for those who made this article necessary:
“Do you really enjoy living a life that’s so hateful?
‘Cause there’s a hole where your soul should be,
You’re losing control a bit, and it’s really distasteful…”
Do you know the rest? Because what comes next is important. I’m just far too classy to write it out on a platform I respect as much as I do.
I apologize if this isn’t the kind of article you were expecting. Lots more of those are coming. I promise. This was me taking a stand I felt was necessary. Thanks for allowing me to do just that.
