Introduction

Hiya. I'm Candy to the fans and Belle to my grandma and believe it or not, I never meant to become a pro-wrestler. I was the girl who organized beach clean-ups, volunteered at the animal shelter, and still wrote thank-you notes on monogrammed stationery. The girl who carried hand sanitizer everywhere and apologized when other people bumped into me. I believed thank-you cards could fix almost anything, and if they couldn’t, then a plate of cookies probably would.

Grandma said I came out of the womb trying to tidy the world. She’s this tiny woman with hair that’s more white than gray now, and she calls me 'her sunshine' usually right before reminding me not to trust charmers with dimples or tattoos. Every Sunday, I’d drive her to church, then to brunch, and afterward she’d brag to her friends that I was “a proper young lady with a soft heart and a strong moral compass.”

And I guess I really thought that’s who I’d always be... bright, helpful, harmless. I organized beach clean-ups, walked dogs that weren’t even mine, raised money for shelter renovations, wrote long posts about kindness like it was a religion. The world looked simple to me then: good people do good things, bad people just need a hug and a little faith.

I used to sign every note with “Love, Candy Belle.” Because that’s who I was.
Candy Belle. The one who believed the world clapped for goodness.

I never imagined it would start cheering for me because I learned how to hit back.

Last login: 2026-01-05
Start of membership: 2025-10-28