Ashley Vox stands about 5’0” on a good day, but don’t let her size fool you—this woman fights like someone duct-taped dynamite to a tuna can and threw it in the ring. Hailing from Providence, Rhode Island, and flanked by her equally scrappy younger sister Delmi Exo, Vox forms one half of The Sea Stars—a tag team that sounds like a Lisa Frank trapper keeper but hits like the Road Warriors in mermaid tights.
While the rest of the women’s wrestling world went the diva-to-superstar pipeline route, Vox took a detour through the indie backwaters, doing shows in places where the popcorn cost more than the pay. But hell, she wasn’t doing it for the money—she was doing it because she was born with a fishhook for a heart and a chip on her shoulder the size of Narragansett Bay.
By the time Vox and Exo washed up in Shimmer Women Athletes in 2019, they weren’t wide-eyed rookies—they were battle-hardened barnstormers, grinding through bingo halls and VFWs like a tag team version of a Ramones tour. And on November 2, 2019, at Volume 115, they did the unthinkable: They beat Cheerleader Melissa and Mercedes Martinez—two names built like tanks and revered like saints—to win the Shimmer Tag Team Championships.
That reign? 730 days. That’s not just a record—it’s a legacy. While most belts get passed around like a bad head cold, the Sea Stars held on like a shark to a seal. They didn’t survive—they thrived. And they did it without a corporate machine, without pyro, and without a 3-minute entrance video narrated by Morgan Freeman.
Jim Cornette would’ve called it “workrate with a pulse.” Bobby Heenan would’ve called it “proof that the circus still has a strongwoman act.” Either way, the Sea Stars weren’t going away quietly. They were the bite-sized barnacles that refused to be scraped off the hull of wrestling history.
But Vox didn’t just swim in the shallow waters of Shimmer. She paddled her way into Ring of Honor. In 2018, she debuted on Women of Honor, tagging with Kris Statlander and Riley Shepherd in a six-woman showcase. They lost, of course—but you’d think they won the lottery based on Vox’s energy. She sold every bump like she was trying to get a job at Cirque du Soleil. Later, she faced Brandi Rhodes and Chelsea Green. Again, no wins—but hey, when you’re five feet tall and built like a hummingbird with abs, just showing up is a victory.
Vox’s ROH résumé reads like a Greek tragedy: she shows up, fights her heart out, and gets pinned by someone with a reality show past. But she never complained, never phoned it in. That’s a rare trait in modern wrestling, where half the roster’s more concerned with TikTok dances than headlocks.
In 2020, Impact Wrestling invited Vox and Exo into the revived Knockouts Tag Team Championship tournament. The Sea Stars were supposed to be a feel-good underdog story. Instead, Fire ‘N Flava snuffed them out like birthday candles on a gluten-free cake. Still, they hung around long enough to take a pasting from Havok and Nevaeh at Final Resolution. That match felt like feeding sardines to lions, but Vox took it on the chin like a true pro.
Then came Major League Wrestling in 2021. MLW decided to get into the women’s game, and wisely brought in the Sea Stars as pioneers in their new featherweight division. Finally—a promotion with the brains to recognize that maybe wrestling didn’t need another six-foot Amazon with a CrossFit habit. Maybe it needed some grit. Some heart. Some Rhode Island steel packed into a 127-pound torpedo.
But the real hometown moment came in 2024, when Ashley Vox stepped into the big pond—All Elite Wrestling. On the November 9th episode of Collision, she made her debut in Providence, Rhode Island. Hometown girl, bright lights, and Kris Statlander staring her down across the ring like a bouncer at the gates of Olympus.
Did she win? Of course not. Kris Statlander hits harder than a bad breakup and twice as fast. But Vox showed up and turned what should’ve been a squash into a statement. Every bump screamed, “I belong here.” Every kick whispered, “I’m not done yet.” She lost the match, sure. But she won something else—respect.
See, Vox doesn’t sell tickets with Twitter beefs or bikini shoots. She doesn’t ride a legacy or wear a last name passed down from a wrestling dynasty. She builds her name the old-fashioned way: ten minutes at a time, in a ring, eating forearms for breakfast and getting up for more.
And let’s talk about the other thing: Ashley Vox is openly lesbian in a sport that still has locker rooms where some folks think “diversity” is just another town in Ohio. She didn’t wait for the tide to change. She swam against it. She showed up, showed out, and never flinched.
In a business that loves to celebrate the loudest, the tallest, the most tanned and Instagram-ready, Ashley Vox is a reminder that sometimes the heart of the business lies in the ones who never stop fighting—even when no one’s watching. She’s part Mick Foley, part Rocky Balboa, part mermaid with a left hook.
The Sea Stars might not headline WrestleMania, but they’ll headline something better: a generation of wrestlers who understand that size doesn’t define you, winning isn’t everything, and that sometimes the biggest impact comes from the smallest package.
Ashley Vox is still grinding. Still fighting. Still throwing forearms like she’s got something to prove. And maybe she always will. Because at the end of the day, she’s not just wrestling for herself—she’s wrestling for every kid who was told they were too small, too weird, too different.
And if you ask her what keeps her going?
She’ll probably smile and say, “There’s still plenty of fish in the sea. And I’m not done biting.”