Photo by Esther Lin (@allelbows) on Instagram
On November 7, 2025, the co-creator of T Boy Wrestling, Adam Bandrowski, announced that the company was closing its doors. In a now deleted Instagram post, Adam alleged that his co-creator Mich Miller had “mismanaged organizational funds”, plunging them into hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. Youtuber bittnia goes into much greater detail on the greater controversies surrounding T Boy Wrestling, and the consequences regarding its closure. Long story short, the allegations are horrific and all affected parties deserve justice. Unfortunately, the dissolution of a wrestling company due to carnie behavior is neither new nor rare, but T Boy Wrestling’s fate is especially consequential.
Wrestling has a very dark past in regards to homophobia, transphobia, and the like. The early iteration of Goldust was flamboyant and erotic, and constantly hit on his male opponents to get a rise out of the audience. A 2002 episode of Monday Night Raw centered around the risque promise of ‘Hot Lesbian Action’, or HLA, by then general manager, Eric Bischoff. Sixteen years later, Sami Zayn interviewed his rival Bobby Lashley’s “sisters” on RAW, and they were clearly male wrestlers dressed in drag.
Bad drag, mind you.
You can say wrestling is a product of its time, you can say these bits were pushed on the writing teams by senile old men and sex pests, and you can say it’s not that deep (it is that deep, but that’s a conversation for another time). The undeniable truth is that queer people— and the mere implication of queerness— have been the butt of jokes in wrestling for decades. Gay people were comedy acts and lesser than their hetero counterparts, trans people were only good for shock jock slop. It’s a miracle wrestling still has a queer fanbase today.
Giving credit where it’s due, pro wrestling has taken greater strides for the LGBTQ+ community than most major sports leagues. Openly queer wrestlers like Anthony Bowens, Toni Storm, Mike Bailey, and Giselle Shaw, are proudly presented on screen and have won major championships in AEW and NWA. Iconically, Finn Balor utilized his Wrestlemania 34 entrance to make a “message of inclusion” and show off his support for the LGBTQ+ community. This year, there were over 50 wrestling events in the U.S. to commemorate Pride Month. But pro wrestling can always do more; provide more opportunities, have more conversations, create more spaces.
Despite its many, many flaws, T Boy Wrestling was a prominent space for LGBTQ+ wrestlers to take center stage on the squared circle. The spirit of it is worth fighting for, and Kidd Bandit has the fighting spirit to do just that.
Kidd Bandit is a trans wrestler and the self-proclaimed Protagonist of Pro Wrestling.
Photo by Esther Lin (@allelbows) on Instagram
She blended her love of martial arts, anime, and video games to curate a fighting style that entertained audiences and gave her opponents headaches. She wrestled against men like Zack Sabre Jr., Jay Malachi (Je’Von Evans), and Malakai Black, and against women like Miyu Yamashita, Allie Katch, and former TBS Champion, Maya World. If she continued to evolve and grow, I have no doubt we would have seen her kicking heads and taking names in AEW. However, back in April, Kidd Bandit wrestled her final match, and left her kickpads in the GCW ring.
This was neither ‘goodbye’ nor ‘see you later’, instead it was more of a ‘stay tuned’. Kidd Bandit retired from in-ring competition to focus on a different facet of pro wrestling: promotion. A month before her in-ring finale, Kidd announced on X that she would be re-launching T-Boy Wrestling, cleaning up all the carny grime, and calling it T4T Wrestling. She wanted to create a space that would empower trans and nonbinary wrestlers, boldly declaring “if places ain’t platforming us, then we’ll make our own way”. Shortly after, she announced dates for tryouts and the first show. Over the next few weeks, prolific trans and nonbinary talent gravitated around this new promotion, and wrestling hopefuls put in the work in T4T’s training camp.
The stage was set for July 3rd, when T4T Wrestling would put on its first wrestling show— no, not just a show, but a showcase.
A recital.
From the beginning, T4T Wrestling has separated itself from the mold. It marketed their debut as performance wrestling, a hybrid of wrestling, drag, dance, and theater. Some matches would be more about telling a story while others would be more about good graps and dope dives. At its core, though, T4T Wrestling stays true to its initials: it’s a show by trans people for trans people.
Photo by Esther Lin (@allelbows) on Instagram
Their debut recital sold out fast, and it was a wild, unapologetic celebration of queer identity and pro wrestling— everything Kidd Bandit promised. Abigail Thorn, who plays Admiral Lohar in House of the Dragon, acted as a guest hostess for the event and got involved by hitting a competitor with a steel chair. There was a three-way match for the NWA Women’s Television Championship featuring three of the most prominent trans wrestlers on the scene today: Dark Sheik, Nyla Rose, and the defending champion, Gisele Shaw. And headlining the show was a FQ Princex Of Pride Title Match between trans wrestler Sonny Kiss and nonbinary wrestler Richie Coy.
The spirit of T4T Wrestling is worth fighting for.
It’s diverse, inclusive, and expressive, everything the LGBTQ+ community embodies. Kidd is doing everything that T Boy Wrestling failed to do. She wants T4T Wrestling to be a space where queer people can be their most authentic selves (and get paid for it!), and her pride for this company is well-placed.
I haven’t gone out of my way to read any of the negativity and bigotry surrounding T4T Wrestling— I value my sanity too much to do that— but I can tell what the haters will say. They’ll say it’s doing too much, it’s too goofy, it’s excluding non-queer wrestlers. And if this is you, then I pity the misery you wallow in just for someone to remember you exist. Also, take a shower.
As a cishet man, I will never experience the level of plight and persecution that trans and nonbinary people do. I have never been shamed for being alive, the Supreme Court isn’t barring my entry into certain sports teams, the medication I need to stay alive isn’t being demonized and restricted (yet). In the grand scheme of things, my life is a luxury, one that queer people don’t have access to (yet).
Photo by Esther Lin (@allelbows) on Instagram
Kidd Bandit is giving the LGBTQ+ community a taste of that luxury: a space just for them. It’s beautiful and badass. As a wrestling fan and ally, I hope that T4T Wrestling has a long and fruitful existence. At the time of writing, they are still expanding and improving. In August, they announced a collaboration with Swordplay LA to provide weekly wrestling classes for those in the Los Angeles area, and appointed Emmy-nominated filmmaker Vera Drew as their general manager.
To keep up with news, follow T4T Wrestling on their official Instagram account, and also follow Esther Lin (@allelbows), who took many of the pics you see in this article. Follow me here on Dirt Sheet Radio as well. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I write about T4T Wrestling, and I’m excited to see what the future has in store for Kidd and her vision.
Jhuvin P. is a writer for CBC/DSR. He has previous experience as a ghostwriter, has published several short stories, and is perpetually working on a novel. In addition to writing, he is also a comedian based out of Colorado Springs. He posts clips of his stand-up along with his other goofy antics on TikTok and Instagram.
