With a success streak etched in history, a bravado bridging boxing and “The Culture,” and a persona positioning her as one of the most polarized figures in sports, it’s fair to contend Claressa Shields is one of the most dominant and misunderstood athletes in modern history. 

In fine form, the sports superstar recently broke another barrier, becoming the first female boxer to headline a main card at State Farm Arena in Atlanta, Georgia. In a city coated with Black culture and driven by entertainment’s finest, Shields wowed an estimated 17,000 fans with her flair and athleticism. 

Per her usual pattern, the match ultimately moved in her favor. A few minutes after chants of her signature “whoop that trick” tagline from the crowd, Shields landed her most potent punch in Round 6, rocking Australia’s Kaye Scott with a knee buckling left hook that sent her into the ropes and pushed her team to throw in the towel. 

Another knockout added to the archives.  

Another defeat for Shields’ opponent to digest and wince over. 

With an unrelenting dedication to her craft, Claressa Shields built her reputation brick by brick, spoiling fans with victories she paid a heavy price for and leaving behind receipts of sheer dominance. But it would be unfair to continue without added context, because what happened between the ropes on August 15, 2026, in the “Black Mecca” was bigger than a show, and it was more than a perceived cakewalk.

Shields’ victory was anchored by an intensive 14-week shred just shy of 40 pounds. Losing the weight was the only way she could compete for the united middleweight title, a belt she now sports around her waist with pride and purpose. On her quest to conquer boxing at every possible level, the five-division world champion says her road to massive weight loss had its burdens but also its benefits. 

“It wasn’t an easy thing to do for sure, but I have a great team, a great nutritionist, a great strength and conditioning coach and great boxing coaches…I am very strict on routine…I’m used to doing what I have to do to make history… I’m 31-years-old, and I feel like I’m 18,” she says. “I look like I’m 18, and I’m just full of life. So, I just want people to see that and experience that in person.”

Experiencing Shields’ jovial side may seem far-fetched for most. Embraced and supported by a tight circle of trust, she sits in a class all her own. Atop the hill as a heavyweight, middleweight and light middleweight / super welterweight anomaly, the elite boxer is the first (male or female) in the four-belt era to become undisputed champion in three different weight classes: a nod to her character as well as her resilience.

While numerous plaques of boxing prowess cover her walls, the widely regarded “GWOAT” (Greatest Woman of All Time) keeps her testimony close by with an awareness rooted in how she continues to overcome the odds.

“I don’t have to let people make me feel insecure or beat me down just because I’m a Black woman in boxing,” Shields says with conviction. “This is the life that I chose, and I’m doing really great at it. If anything, the way the world is set up with statistics, I’m supposed to lose. So, the fact that I’m able to win over and over again, that should be applauded, because I’m not supposed to be this sane, be this calm, be saved and be a God-fearing woman after everything that I went through.”

At the onset of unpacking her greatness, this question must be answered: How did Claressa Shields get here?

We can backtrack a bit to reach some conclusions. 

For the Flint, Michigan native who takes great pride in “getting it out of the mud,” boxing glory arrived early, but she says it came at a cost. 

“My childhood was boxing…At the age of 11, I started boxing, and that was my entire life…So I didn’t go to the movies until I was 13,” the boxing great admits. “I didn’t go to a waterpark until I was 17 or 18, and that’s when I could pay for it after I won the Olympics. I just didn’t do a whole lot of stuff, because I couldn’t.  I had a dream, and I wanted to go to the Olympics.”    

Shields’ dream was realized when she became the first American boxer to win a gold medal at the London 2012 Olympic Games at just 17-years-old. Stardom put her in a headlock and refused to let go. History had Shields on the ropes and repeated itself when she secured her second gold medal at the Rio 2016 Games.  

Graced with gloves of endless possibility, Shields’ skillset skyrocketed from aspirational to the blueprint for boxers both present and future. Her amateur career far surpassed the scales of mediocrity, and with a 64-1 record, professional boxing was poised for its next paradigm shift. 

To date, she has eluded the bitter taste of defeat as a pro, touting a 19-0 record inclusive of four knockouts. Confident yet calculated, “The GWOAT” takes her successful stretch in stride, normalizing what most people would deem impossible. 

“Making history is extraordinary, but to me it’s just another day at the job,” the undisputed heavyweight champion asserts. “I don’t celebrate until it (the job) is over…I celebrate at the end.  I don’t celebrate on the way. I feel like a fight is a fight, and if another girl thinks she’s gonna whoop me, she’s got another thing coming.”

For Shields, beating the odds also comes with disconnecting from her critics. In recent years, social media slander aimed at her relationship status and jabs at her outspoken nature have tried to outshine her success in the ring.  Despite the noise, in light of the naysayers, regardless of the gossip and counter to the lack of context, Shields takes the blows as they come and remains focused on who and what she deems most important.

“I’ve ignored plenty of people and just locked in…Of course it (the narratives and criticism) may bother me, but it can’t stop my greatness. When the hate gets really loud, that’s like a confirmation from God that I’m about to level up…I don’t like being lied on, especially with my character and who I am, because I’m a girls’ girl, I love women, and I love people who get it out the mud…I love Black people, I love us,” she says.

With unwavering resolve and authenticity as her anchors, Shields sits in the corner of the “safe spaces” they provide.  But she admits her heart has never been immune to harsh words.

“There were so many times I wanted to just stop boxing and not do it, because of the scrutiny that came behind it, people saying, ‘Oh, you want to be a man,’ or ‘You box like a man…you got muscles like a man,’” she says. “When they used to say that sometimes, at a younger age, it used to be offensive to me and made me not want to box anymore.”   

With the capacity to thrive despite callous comments and slanderous social media storylines, Shields chooses to embrace the gift of simply sitting in her design. “Being authentically yourself may come at a cost, but it’s only for a short-term…I think being who I truly am is good for my mental health. I cannot fake it with you,” she says.  

Along with genuineness and spiritual stability, Shields refuses to allow accolades or skeptics to derail her desires outside of the ring. Connecting legacy to her boxing empire, she makes it clear the belts don’t undermine her desire for motherhood. 

“I want a husband, and I want to have all my kids, that’s just how I want my life,” she states. 

Mindful of her upbringing and the hardships she faced in her youth, the undisputed boxing champion wants to give her future children love, opportunity and perspective. 

“I want to have my own legacy to leave behind. With my kids, I want them to never feel like they are invisible. I want them to feel important. I want them to feel like they are cared about and loved, because I didn’t feel that…I want my kids to live their life and have a childhood,” she says while fighting tears.

At 31-years-old, Shields’ focus and goals fuel her joy and outlook. The sports icon says she understands the importance of community, she values the effects of hard work and she’s also comfortable sparring with the challenges that accompany calling her own shots. As the founder of Claressa Shields Promotions, she efficiently manages her pocketbook and partnerships with Wynn Records and Salita Promotions, creating a cash flow ecosystem and sanctuary for the next generation of top boxers. 

“It has always been important for me to make the decisions about my money…I ought to make the decisions, I’m the one putting in the hard work,” she says. “I have to hire everybody, fire people, and bring new people around…I can read, I can write, I can do math, I can figure this out.”

As a Black woman in business who is breathing fresh air into how boxers can control their own narratives and direct dollars as they see fit, Shields wears the weight of financial freedom proudly on her shoulders. The money-making maven also understands cooperative economics, creating opportunities for herself as well as the athletes she supports and mentors. With several fighters on her roster, the renowned athlete says she prioritizes teaching them the business of boxing and brand monetization. 

It’s often said, “what is understood needs no explanation,” but the core of Claressa Shields away from the ropes, separate from the championship belts and removed from her competitive swagger deserves some dialogue. What she means to boxing needs no soliloquy.  The statistics speak for themselves, and she has earned her place as one of the most decorated competitors the sport has ever seen. 

But the dualities associated with how she’s perceived versus how she truly moves through the world requires a level of clarity and conversation. Hopefully, ESSENCE Black Women In Sports serves as the starting point.  But if outstanding questions remain, it’s best to give Claressa “The GWOAT” Shields the last word.  

When asked to describe herself, the champ straightens her posture just a bit, musters up her signature smile and says with more confidence than a kid who just rode their bike for the first time without training wheels, “Claressa Shields is one of one, Claressa Shields is The GWOAT, Claressa Shields is the best, Claressa Shields is God’s daughter.”

Read the original article on Essence.