There’s something magnetic about a misfit who won’t quit.
Ruby Soho doesn’t scream superstardom in the conventional sense. She doesn’t have Charlotte Flair’s pageant pedigree or Bianca Belair’s Olympic build. But there’s a defiance in her walk, a slow-burning fire in her eyes, and the kind of punk-rock grace that says, “I’ve lost more matches than you’ve had hot meals — and I’m still standing.”
Born Dori Elizabeth Prange in Edwardsburg, Michigan, she cut her teeth in the Midwest wrestling grind. She trained under Billy Roc at the School of Roc, a school where headlocks were taught with the same gravity as guitar chords in a Springsteen ballad. She debuted in 2010 under the name Heidi Lovelace — the kind of name that sounds like it belongs to a steampunk burlesque dancer, not a future WWE star — and spent her early years getting bounced around in bingo halls and high school gyms, the kind of venues where the audience smells like stale beer and regret.
You don’t climb out of that scene without some scars, and Soho’s got ‘em in spades.
Before WWE suited her up and called her Ruby Riott, she was bleeding for promotions like Shimmer, Shine, and Chikara — each a layer in the sandwich of independent pro wrestling, where talent gets you in the door, but madness keeps you around. She was a Young Lions Cup winner, a tag team specialist, and a cult favorite. If there was a canvas and a bell, Ruby would lace up and throw down, no matter how lousy the paycheck or how rabid the crowd.
In 2015, she touched down in Stardom, Japan’s Mecca for women’s wrestling. Teaming with Act Yasukawa and joining the villainous Oedo Tai stable, she showed Tokyo exactly what Midwest steel looked like. But the neon lights of Japan faded fast, and she was soon back in the States, waiting for her number to be called.
WWE came knocking in 2016, and like every indie darling with a dream, she answered. They put her through the Performance Center meat grinder, gave her a half-baked backstory and a name ripped from a Rancid album, and tossed her into the swirling shark tank of NXT. Ruby Riott debuted in 2017, standing shoulder to shoulder with Tye Dillinger and Roderick Strong, the human embodiment of a Hot Topic clearance rack.
But that’s not a dig — it’s a badge of honor. Because Soho made that weird, patchwork persona work. She wasn’t a beauty queen or a powerhouse — she was a brawler with a broken compass and a tattooed middle finger aimed squarely at the WWE machine. And the crowd loved her for it.
The Riott Squad — a trio of chaos featuring Liv Morgan and Sarah Logan — burst onto the main roster like a Molotov cocktail. They were scrappy, unpredictable, and about as subtle as a bar fight. But in WWE, creative pushes last about as long as a Tinder date. One minute you’re wrestling Charlotte Flair at Fastlane, the next you’re getting choked out by Ronda Rousey in two minutes flat.
Still, Soho clawed through every setback. Shoulder injuries? Surgeries? Losing streaks? She turned them into fuel. WWE never gave her the ball to run with, but she never stopped sprinting.
Then came the axe. In June 2021, Ruby Riott was released — another casualty of Vince McMahon’s budget cuts, a dollar sign with a pulse. But rather than sulk or fade away, she did what she always does: she adapted, evolved, and turned heartbreak into a battle cry.
She shed the WWE skin, burned the Riott Squad gear, and reclaimed her soul. With a blessing from Lars Fredriksen of Rancid himself, she became Ruby Soho — a name, a song, a statement. And when she walked through the curtain at AEW’s All Out pay-per-view in September 2021 as the Joker in the women’s Casino Battle Royale, the crowd erupted. Not for a gimmick. Not for a catchphrase. But for a woman who survived.
In AEW, Soho found a new canvas and fewer restrictions. She tangled with Britt Baker, Jade Cargill, and Jamie Hayter. She came close — damn close — to gold. Finals of tournaments. Main events. Pay-per-view title shots. But wrestling doesn’t always reward the worthy. Sometimes, it rewards the marketable. And Ruby Soho was always more Mick Foley than Trish Stratus — more grit than gloss.
Then came The Outcasts — a heel stable with Saraya and Toni Storm. On paper, it was a riot grrrl fantasy. In practice, it was a ticking time bomb. Soho embraced the villain role for the first time since her WWE exit, turning on Jamie Hayter and Britt Baker and leaning into her dark side like a punk rock Harley Quinn. But the chaos burned fast, and before the storyline could mature, real life threw a curveball.
In late 2024, Soho revealed she was pregnant — a joyful twist in a career filled with swerve after swerve. The Outcasts fell apart. AEW’s plans shifted. And Ruby took a bow, not with a title, but with her head held high.
The thing about Soho is, she’s always been more than the belts. She’s the heartache under the leather. The vulnerability in the forearm smashes. The tenacity in the kickouts at two-and-a-half. You can’t teach that kind of spirit — you just survive long enough for it to shine through.
Now, as she steps into motherhood and her next chapter, the question isn’t whether she’ll return. It’s when. And whether AEW — or any promotion, really — will finally give her the platform to lead the division, not just bolster it.
Because Ruby Soho doesn’t need the machine to validate her. She’s spent over a decade proving that she belongs. In bingo halls, Tokyo arenas, WWE stadiums, and AEW pay-per-views, she’s been the same scrappy underdog with the busted nose and the unbreakable will.
She’s the misfit who made good. The lifer who never blinked. The punk who never sold out.
And in a business full of pretenders, Ruby Soho is one of the few who’s real