Somewhere between the folds of a luchadora’s mask and the bite of a regulation MMA mouthguard lives Dulce Maria García Rivas—better known to the world as Sexy Star, though depending on who you ask, that name might elicit awe, ire, or the sudden urge to apply ice to an old wrestling injury. She is a woman who has held gold, thrown fists, changed careers like outfits, and once allegedly turned a scripted submission into a very real insurance claim.
Welcome to the manic, brutal, and unapologetically chaotic saga of the first woman to win the Lucha UndergroundChampionship—a title, a controversy, a cautionary tale, and a Mexican sports epic all in one.
The Birth of a Gloved Storm
Born in Monterrey in 1982, Dulce García was forged in the crucible of combat sports before she ever put on a mask. A background in boxing, kickboxing, and Muay Thai made her just dangerous enough to be interesting and just unpredictable enough to be unforgettable.
She debuted in 2006 as Dulce Poly, which sounded like a discontinued candy bar but quickly became the face of the Federación Internacional de Lucha Libre women’s division. She racked up titles like frequent flyer miles—holding the FILL Women’s Championship and Mixed Tag Team titles like they were seasonal accessories. Then came the transformation. A bit of glitter, a lot of leather, and suddenly she was Sexy Star—a character equal parts superhero and tabloid headline.
AAA: High Heels and Higher Body Counts
Sexy Star’s early days in Lucha Libre AAA Worldwide were fairly tame—by lucha standards. Think mixed tag matches, torneos ciberneticos, and lots of over-the-top babyface energy. But she eventually turned heel and dove face-first into the melodrama that only AAA could script, including a real-life soap opera triangle involving fellow wrestlers Faby Apache and Billy Boy. For a while, Sexy Star was wrestling’s version of a telenovela villain with better abs and worse intentions.
Things escalated, as they always do in AAA. By 2009, she had her first Reina de Reinas Championship—and enough enemies to fill a Royal Rumble. The Apaches, Mari and Faby, had a long-standing blood feud with Star that peaked with humiliating stipulations, “maid for a month” matches, and the kind of misogynist subtext you’d expect from wrestling’s less evolved corners.
Still, she held her own—physically, politically, theatrically. For nearly a decade, Sexy Star was the most prominent female heel in AAA, and somehow survived without being buried under the creative debris left by Konnan’s booking.
The Lucha Underground Legend
Then came Lucha Underground, the mythic El Rey Network project that turned lucha libre into a gritty, post-apocalyptic comic book. It was here that Sexy Star truly exploded onto the global scene, finally unshackled from AAA’s melodrama.
Her arcs were bloody and bold. She battled Chavo Guerrero Jr., got kidnapped by Marty “The Moth” Martinez (in a storyline, we think), and earned the Gift of the Gods title in Season 2. By Season 3, she made history, becoming the first female Lucha Underground Champion by winning the Aztec Warfare match—basically WWE’s Royal Rumble with more cultural guilt and fewer Vince McMahon cameos.
It should have been the stuff of legend. And it was… for about 15 minutes.
Armbar Apocalypse: The Rosemary Incident
Then came Triplemanía XXV in 2017. In a four-way match, Sexy Star locked fellow wrestler Rosemary into a submission hold—a shoot armbar that went full real, leaving Rosemary with a legitimate injury and a locker room full of furious wrestlers.
The backlash was swift, fiery, and international. Joey Ryan, Road Dogg, Cody Rhodes, and half the wrestling internet called for her blacklisting. WrestleCade dropped her. AAA stripped her of the title. Sexy Star went from queen to pariah before the post-match confetti had even hit the mat.
Was it intentional? An adrenaline-fueled accident? Or just hubris wrapped in latex and laces? Only she knows—and she’s not talking.
Exit Wrestling, Enter Combat
But Dulce García wasn’t about to fade quietly into lucha purgatory. In 2017, she unmasked—a bold move in lucha libre tradition, akin to burning your superhero cape—and launched her professional boxing career.
Critics scoffed. But García had fists like tax audits: relentless and impossible to ignore. She went 5–0 in the ring, translating wrestling bravado into sweet science with surprising success.
Then came MMA. She signed with Combate Americas (later Combate Global), where she debuted in 2019 with a win by decision. She took another W against Alina Lopez and suffered her first MMA loss in 2021—proving that in combat sports, nobody escapes unscathed.
Still, for a woman who once declared herself retired (only to return months later), García has shown a habit of reinventing herself whenever the stakes get high or the walls close in. She’s pro wrestling’s Lazarus with a right hook and press credentials.
From Tabú to Talk Shows
When not flipping opponents or realigning ligaments, García also dabbled in media. In 2010, she appeared on National Geographic’s Tabú, Mexico’s answer to “What won’t you do for ratings?” She later pivoted to Monterrey television, co-hosting children’s shows and celebrity dance competitions. Because why not follow an armbar with a pirouette?
Legacy: Legend, Outlaw, or Warning Label?
Sexy Star is hard to define. A trailblazer? Yes. A cautionary tale? Definitely. A villain? Possibly. A hero? Depends who you ask.
She’s broken glass ceilings and collarbones. She’s become the first female world champion in a male-dominated lucha universe. She’s also walked out of AAA, unmasked herself, returned, got blacklisted, boxed, fought MMA, raised a child, hosted kid’s TV, and still hasn’t really apologized for that armbar.
In short: she’s lucha libre’s most chaotic neutral—part feminist icon, part PR disaster, and wholly unforgettable.
Whatever you do, don’t call her a diva.
Not unless you want to find your elbow pointing in the wrong direction.
