If you blinked, you might’ve missed it. The moment when a statuesque Australian walked into the Japanese wrestling scene and promptly turned it upside down like she was flipping a kangaroo on roller skates. Her name? Xena. No, not the Warrior Princess. This one’s real—and she’s got more suplexes than Xena of Amphipolis ever had chakrams.
Born Xena Kacho on February 18, 1997, in a country where even the spiders bench press, this Aussie powerhouse didn’t come to Stardom to sip tea and pose pretty. She came to stomp your chest in and look damn good doing it. She entered World Wonder Ring Stardom in 2023 like a glitter grenade—with high kicks, hard hits, and more personality than half the Tokyo Dome’s lighting rig. You know how some people walk into a room and you feel the temperature rise? Xena walks into a ring and the ropes start sweating.
She was introduced as the newest member of Club Venus, a stable so glamorous it made the Kardashians look like they were in witness protection. On March 26, 2023, during Stardom’s Cinderella Tournament, she stepped into the spotlight and promptly dropkicked her way through Hina in the first round. Cinderella might’ve lost a slipper—Xena left boot prints on someone’s chest.
And while her stablemates played glitter and games, it was Xena who made it to the quarterfinals. That’s right. In her Stardom debut, she outshined the whole damn group. If Bobby Heenan were on commentary, he’d say, “She’s got legs like tree trunks and hits like a tax audit. The others are dancing—she’s demolishing.”
In early April, she teamed with Mariah May and a mystery partner—who turned out to be Jessie (yes, that Jessie, formerly of NXT fame)—and they knocked off Stardom’s babyfaces like they were swatting flies in a sauna. Koguma and Saya Iida didn’t know what hit them. Probably because what hit them was built like a Greek statue and moved like a Dodge Charger in second gear.
By September 30, the glitter had lost its shine and the Club Venus visa office got real quiet. Mariah May? Gone. Jessie? Vanished. But Xena? She stayed. Because where others saw a tourist visa, Xena saw a battlefield. The lone foreign survivor of Club Venus, standing in a locker room full of women who eat suplexes for breakfast. Jim Cornette would’ve called her “the only one with the guts to stay in the foxhole after the fireworks stopped.”
Then came the real pivot. January 2024. The bubblegum ballet of Club Venus got a shot of adrenaline and evolved into something tougher, meaner, and more regal: Empress Nexus Venus. A mouthful of a name, sure—but it sounded like a finishing move delivered off the top rope during a solar eclipse. Xena joined forces with Maika, Mina Shirakawa, Waka Tsukiyama, and Hanako. Gone were the hair flips and winks. In came the forearms and full-contact couture.
On March 30, 2024, at the Artist of Stardom Championship bout, the trio of Maika, Shirakawa, and Xena laid waste to Abarenbo GE and snatched the titles like they were reclaiming a throne. Xena wasn’t just part of the match—she was the exclamation point. The hammer to the nail. The crash at the end of a symphony.
And let’s not forget her resume outside of Stardom. In her homeland of Australia, she didn’t just dabble in dominance—she owned the scene. Four-time FWA Women’s Champion. That’s not a typo. That’s four times someone looked at her and said, “We need a champion,” and four times she proved them right by turning opponents into yoga mats.
Oh, and about that PWI ranking? 213th in 2024. Yeah, that number’s going to age like milk in the sun. If PWI had one of those “Most Likely to Rip Your Spine Out with a Smile” awards, she’d be the inaugural winner. Hell, she’d probably win it retroactively for the past decade.
Of course, just when her momentum was climbing like a rocket strapped to a kangaroo, the injury bug had to show up uninvited. Somewhere in 2024, Xena went out with an undisclosed injury. That’s wrestling code for, “She got hurt bad, but not bad enough to lose her mystique.” You never want to see talent benched, especially one who looked like she was on a collision course with main-event stardom.
But here’s the kicker—Xena will be back. You can see it in her track record. She doesn’t just survive chaos; she brings it. The injury isn’t the end. It’s just halftime. And when the second act begins, she’s not coming to shake hands. She’s coming to remind you that Australian wrestlers don’t quit—they reload.
If Jim Cornette were watching from the cheap seats, he’d light a tennis racket on fire and say, “That’s what I’m talking about! No TikTok nonsense, no dance breaks—just straight-up, smash-mouth wrestling from a woman who probably deadlifts kangaroos for breakfast.”
Bobby Heenan would’ve slid in with, “She’s so tough, her shadow’s scared of her. She goes to the gym just to stretch the building’s foundation.”
Xena isn’t just a wrestler. She’s a warning shot. A line in the sand. The type of wrestler who doesn’t need catchphrases or hashtags—she lets her lariats do the talking. You want a diva? Go elsewhere. You want a destroyer dressed in sequins with abs carved by Greek gods and an attitude like a busted chainsaw? That’s Xena.
In a business full of pretenders, influencers, and part-time screamers, she stands out because she commits to every elbow drop like it’s a career decision. She’s not here to impress you. She’s here to leave an impression—on your chest, your face, and the history books.
And when she returns—because she will return—it won’t be subtle. It’ll be a wrecking ball painted in Stardom colors with “Empress” tattooed across its knuckles.
Until then, the ring is quieter. Less dangerous. Less electric. But somewhere, you know Xena is healing, lifting, plotting.
And when she finally walks through that curtain again?
You better pray you’re not the one standing across from her.
