War comes home with you, but it doesn't have to define you
In the world of professional wrestling, Deonna Purrazzo is doing something quietly significant: using her platform not only to champion women's opportunities in Ring of Honor, but to turn the spotlight toward those who served in uniform and now struggle to find themselves in the silence after service. As a titleholder and a military spouse, she stands at the intersection of spectacle and sacrifice, reminding us that the arenas we build for people to prove themselves matter — whether they are wrestling rings or the harder, invisible spaces veterans navigate alone.
- Ring of Honor hosts up to six women's matches per week, yet remains underestimated as a destination for women wrestlers seeking real development time and creative freedom.
- With a wave of free agents entering the market, Purrazzo is actively making the case that ROH is a place where careers are built, not merely parked.
- Approximately 44 veterans per day are lost to post-service identity crises — a number her husband's own story made viscerally real to her.
- On June 6, Purrazzo and her husband Steve Maclin are hosting the Battle for the Brave charity event to raise awareness and funds through the Tunnel to Towers Foundation.
- The event carries a personal urgency: Maclin found wrestling after leaving the Marines, but Purrazzo knows not every veteran finds their lifeline in time.
Deonna Purrazzo currently holds the Ring of Honor Women's Pure Championship, a title she won in December — but the belt is almost secondary to what she's trying to say about the company itself. She first arrived at ROH in 2015 and helped revive a women's division that had gone dormant for nearly a decade. After a stint in AEW, she returned to ROH and won a newly created championship. Now, with free agents flooding the market, she's making a deliberate argument: Ring of Honor is not a consolation prize.
The company runs four to six women's matches per week, giving wrestlers room to develop characters and tell stories without the pressure of weekly flagship television. Athena has held the ROH Women's World Championship for over 1,200 days. Red Velvet has defended the Women's World Television Championship for more than 150. The infrastructure exists, Purrazzo says — what's missing is the perception that it matters.
Beyond the ring, Purrazzo and her husband, TNA star and Marine veteran Steve Maclin, are hosting the Battle for the Brave on June 6, a charity event benefiting the Tunnel to Towers Foundation. Maclin's openness about his service changed how Purrazzo sees her own responsibilities. She grew up in New Jersey when 9/11 struck in her second-grade year, and that memory of national unity has taken on new meaning through marriage to a veteran.
She speaks carefully about what she's learned: roughly 44 veterans per day are lost to what she describes as an identity crisis — the disorienting question of who you are once service ends. Maclin was fortunate; wrestling gave him a path forward. The Battle for the Brave exists to tell veterans that the country hasn't forgotten them, that resources are real, and that the transition home doesn't have to be faced alone.
Deonna Purrazzo holds the Ring of Honor Women's Pure Championship, a title she won in December by defeating Billie Starkz. But what matters more to her than any single belt is what the company represents: a place where women wrestlers can build themselves without the relentless machinery of weekly television grinding them down.
Purrazzo arrived at Ring of Honor in 2015 and helped resurrect the women's division after nearly a decade of dormancy. She spent three years there before moving to All Elite Wrestling in 2024, only to return to ROH—which by then had become a sister company under AEW co-founder Tony Khan's ownership. When she came back, she entered a tournament for the newly created women's pure championship and won it. Now, with a fresh wave of wrestlers hitting the free-agent market, she's making the case that ROH deserves to be seen as a destination, not a consolation prize.
"What's so great about Ring of Honor is that it kinda flies under the radar," she told Fox News Digital. The company hosts four, five, sometimes six women's matches per week—a volume of opportunity that allows wrestlers to develop characters, test new ideas, and tell stories without the pressure of appearing on "Dynamite" every single week. She believes the wrestling community doesn't give ROH enough credit for what it's building. Athena currently holds the ROH Women's World Championship, a title she's carried for more than 1,200 days. Red Velvet holds the Women's World Television Championship, which she's defended for more than 150 days. The infrastructure is there. The wrestlers are there. What's missing, Purrazzo suggests, is the perception that ROH is a place where women's wrestling matters.
But Purrazzo's reach extends beyond the ring. On June 6, she and her husband, Total Nonstop Action Wrestling star Steve Maclin, are hosting the Battle for the Brave, a charity event benefiting the Tunnel to Towers Foundation. Maclin served in the U.S. Marines, and that fact has reshaped how Purrazzo understands her own role in the world. She grew up in New Jersey, where 9/11 happened when she was in second grade. She remembers the unity that followed, the sense that Americans would stand together. But being married to a veteran has given that childhood memory new weight and urgency.
Maclin opened up to her about his service, about things he witnessed and experienced. That conversation sparked something in Purrazzo—a recognition that the transition from military life to civilian life is not something most people understand or discuss. She speaks about it with the precision of someone who has listened closely: roughly 44 veterans per day lose their lives to what she calls an identity crisis, the struggle to answer the question "Who am I?" after service ends. The official statistic is often cited as 22 veterans per day, but Purrazzo references newer calculations that suggest the real number is double that.
Maclin was fortunate. He found wrestling after leaving the Marines, and wrestling saved him from an unknown path. Not every veteran has that. Purrazzo sees the Battle for the Brave as a way to tell veterans that yes, war comes home with you, but it doesn't have to define you. It's a way to say that the country is here for them, that resources exist, that support is real. For her, being American now means showing up for the people who served.
Citações Notáveis
Ring of Honor kinda flies under the radar, so you get to really develop and tell stories and show personality without the pressure of being on television every single week.— Deonna Purrazzo
War will always come home with you, but it doesn't have to define you. Wrestling saved Steve from falling down an unknown path after the Marines, and that's what we want for all veterans.— Deonna Purrazzo, on veteran mental health and post-service transition
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
You mentioned that Ring of Honor "flies under the radar." Is that a disadvantage, or is it actually what makes the place work?
It's both. The lack of constant spotlight means wrestlers get room to breathe, to experiment, to build something without the algorithm demanding they be perfect every week. But it also means fewer eyes see what they're building. That's the paradox.
And you're trying to change that perception—to make ROH a destination rather than a stepping stone?
Exactly. I want people to see it as a place where women's wrestling is taken seriously, where there's real opportunity. Not a minor league. A different kind of league.
Let's shift to the charity work. When you talk about 44 veterans a day, that number is almost incomprehensible. How did you arrive at that figure?
Through conversations with Steve, with other veterans, with organizations doing the work. The official numbers don't capture the full picture. There's a gap between what gets reported and what's actually happening.
And you see wrestling as part of the answer—as something that can help?
I see it as one answer. Steve's story proves it can work. But the real answer is resources, support, community. Wrestling gave him an identity when he needed one. Other veterans need different things. That's what the foundation does.
Does it feel strange to be using your platform in wrestling to advocate for something so far removed from wrestling?
It doesn't feel far removed at all. It's the same thing—giving people a place to belong, to grow, to become who they're meant to be. Whether that's in a ring or in a community. That's what matters.