On a chilly January afternoon, Claressa Shields confides in me, declaring, “IT’S A BIT MUCH.” The world’s undefeated and undisputed heavyweight champion is referring to the multitude of cameras, microphones, and scrutinizing eyes anticipating her arrival at Madison Square Garden. She is scheduled to make a ringside appearance in a few hours at the Shakur Stevenson-Teofimo Lopez bout alongside her partner, Papoose. To get ready, she has converted a room in his New Jersey apartment complex into her personal beauty studio. Bottles, jars, and powders are spread out on a table before her.
“So, I understand that whatever images or videos are captured of me today will circulate widely on the internet for the next couple of days,” she remarks.
“Likely a week,” she amends after a brief pause.
A knowing grin spreads across her face. She comprehends the routine.
“My content consistently goes viral for numerous days. I often find myself thinking, ‘Seriously, aren’t you guys finished yet?’ Oh my goodness,” she utters, dramatically rolling her eyes.
“Why is that the case?” I inquire.
“People either simply adore me or dislike me, I’m not sure, but they are captivated by my way of life,” she explains. “Papoose and I together – I am a professional global champion; he is among the top rappers – it’s enthralling to them, and even the smallest things become viral.”
Shields navigates her phone and gives instructions to Andi, her makeup artist, regarding her look for the evening. A touch of shimmer for her eyelids. “Perhaps use some pink blush too,” Shields suggests, pulling back the hood of her bright pink Versace sweatshirt from her neck. Shields had cleansed her face after a shadowboxing session at a nearby gym. She had consumed a meal consisting of fish, rice, and spinach. She is contemplating wearing a vibrant red dress that hangs in Papoose’s apartment upstairs.
For over a decade, Claressa Shields, arguably the most accomplished female boxer of all time, toiled in obscurity. She secured an Olympic gold medal in 2012. Then another in 2016, making her the first American boxer to achieve consecutive golds. Many Olympic victors ascend to become American icons. Not Shields.
Until now. Last February, during one of her matches, she publicly launched her relationship with Papoose, who is currently undergoing a divorce from rapper Remy Ma. Since then, her public visibility has rapidly surged into superstardom.
Not only does everyone seem to hold an opinion about her, but they also wish to voice that opinion. Shields posts on social media. Admirers, celebrities, rivals, bots – from the common individual to Jake Paul – all respond. Most do not include a heart emoji. It is not Shields’ character to retreat. She retorts, with a witty remark, a video, a ‘like’, providing the masses with fresh material to react to. A new wave of virality ensues. During the five hours I spend with her, Shields confronts Instagram trolls, online “fabricators,” and anonymous detractors. For Shields, the struggle – both within and outside the ring – is unceasing. Her lasting reputation is at stake.
On February 22, 18,000 spectators are expected to fill Detroit’s Little Caesars Arena to witness Shields battle archrival Franchón Crews-Dezurn in the main event. Some will cheer for Shields the competitor, while others will mock Shields the provocateur. Fourteen years after earning her first Olympic gold medal and nine years after facing Crews-Dezurn in her professional debut on an undercard in Las Vegas, Shields is attaining what she has always desired: unparalleled celebrity. But at what expense?
Shields closes her eyes. Andi applies a cream-colored eye shadow and blends it meticulously. Then she gently dabs a shimmering gold over Shields’ eyelids. Her eyes brighten, the dark circles beneath them diminish.
Keeping her eyes shut, Shields tells Andi to do something she has never attempted before. So much scrutiny will be on her tonight. She aims to leverage the moment.
She wishes to wear red lip color.
WITH THE PRECISION of a medical practitioner, Andi grasps the tip of a false eyelash with a pair of tweezers. She transfers it to her fingers, pinching the edges as she carefully affixes it over Shields’ left eyelid. It’s not right. She removes it and adjusts its position. Then she moves to the other eye. The impact is immediate and striking. Shields’ eyes appear larger, more almond-shaped. The eyelashes generate a wing-like impression towards the outer corners of her eyes.
With her eyes closed, Shields recounts her experience at the 2012 London Olympics.
She was 14 years old when she learned the news that women would be permitted to box at the 2012 Olympics. From that point onward, it consumed her thoughts. She had to run 4 miles from her residence in Flint, Michigan, to the gymnasium solely to practice boxing. Sometimes the shoelaces in her worn-out footwear would come undone and flap about as she ran. She envisioned herself clutching the Olympic gold medal.
She dedicated hours at the gym defeating boys, and she imagined wrapping the American flag around her shoulders after winning the gold medal match.
Her initial sparring partner, Darrion Lawson, recalls girls in Michigan declining to fight her because “they were so terrified of being beaten.” So Shields journeyed outside the state to locate female opponents. By the time 2012 arrived, even before boarding the plane to London, she was certain no woman globally could defeat her. She claimed her first Olympic gold medal at the age of 17.
“And then my aspiration paused,” Shields states.
Andi traces a thick black line on Shields’ eyelid with eyeliner, extending the line from her upper lashes all the way to the edge of her eye and beyond. The eyeliner conceals the adhesive line created by the artificial lashes.
Shields speaks more rapidly, words flowing from her.
“I didn’t receive any endorsements, and I didn’t secure any sponsorships, yet I possessed a gold medal,” Shields explains. “So for approximately a year, I felt somewhat stranded, unsure of what I was supposed to do with my life at that juncture.”
Andi proceeds to fill in her eyebrows, prompting Shields to open her eyes, narrow them, and fix her gaze on me.
“I observed all these other young women gracing magazine covers and landing deals with Nike, Adidas, and Under Armour. And I wondered, where were mine? I even saw girls without medals getting endorsements, so I thought, what on earth?”
Shields was awarded a $25,000 bonus from the United States Olympic Committee for her gold medal victory. She utilized it to lease a house and purchase an automobile. She overheard whispers suggesting she wasn’t receiving endorsements because her Olympic gold medal was a stroke of luck. She resolved to make those individuals regret their words. She decided she would make the brands that overlooked her strive exceptionally hard to sign her later. She relocated to Florida to prepare for the Rio Olympics.
When the judges’ verdict was announced after her gold medal match against the Netherlands’ Nouchka Fontijn at the 2016 Rio Olympics, Shields chuckled and performed a cartwheel in the ring before circling with the American flag.
Livesey/Getty Images
Precisely as she had foreseen, corporate entities initiated contact. She retains vivid recollections of each one: Powerade, Dick’s Sporting Goods, Under Armour.
After filming a handful of advertisements here and there, she reverted to a comparatively ordinary existence. Acclaim, it appeared, was ephemeral.
She established a fresh objective: to become the inaugural female pugilist to amass a million dollars. In November 2016, she transitioned to professional status.
Throughout the subsequent years, she engaged in bouts across various weight divisions – spanning from super welterweight (154 pounds) to heavyweight (exceeding 175 pounds) – never once experiencing defeat in her professional career. Yet, somehow, the most prominent fight events were allocated to her contemporaries. Weeks prior to Netflix’s announcement of the highly awaited November 2024 showdown between Katie Taylor and Amanda Serrano at AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas, Shields telephoned former boxer, mentor, and Flint native, Andre Dirrell. She couldn’t summon her usual vigor that day; she felt disheartened.
“How much longer until I receive the chance to compete before millions of spectators?” she inquired of him.
Dirrell, who consistently possessed the right words for her, selected a passage from a book titled “Man’s Search for Meaning,” and having committed it to memory, conveyed its essence to Shields.
“When an individual discovers that it is their fate to endure hardship, they must embrace their suffering as their assignment. They must acknowledge the reality that even amidst tribulation, they are singular and isolated in the cosmos,” he informed her.
“Ress,” he addressed her by her sobriquet, reserved for her intimates. “Your moment will arrive.”
Shields compresses her lips. A distant expression settles upon her countenance, as if she is re-engaging with the sentiments from the initial decade of her professional journey.
Exhaling on the applicator to dislodge surplus cosmetic, Andi meticulously blends the iridescent eye color at the central part of Shields’ upper eyelids with a deep brown hue that she applies to the outer margins of Shields’ brow arches. Content with the luminous outcome, Andi proceeds to the subsequent significant stage: facial contouring.
ANDI CHOOSES A UMBER shade that is several tones deeper than Shields’ complexion. Utilizing a tool, she delineates a mark beneath Shields’ right cheekbone, extending entirely to the border of her mouth. She replicates this on the opposing side. Subsequently, she meticulously sketches two parallel markers commencing from the apex of Shields’ brow arches to the tip of her nose. Gradually, she integrates the contouring outlines seamlessly into the base makeup.
Shields’ nasal feature appears elongated, more defined.
Papoose enters the chamber. “Greetings, darling,” she utters to him.
Papoose had disclosed to me a few days prior that Shields had entered his existence when he believed his “life was concluded.” She was “brimming with vitality” and underscored for him the significance of fresh starts, even subsequent to bitter conclusions. He immersed himself in becoming a devoted and steadfast associate. “Should I need to provide her with hydration, should I need to support her satchel, should I need to cradle her training pads for her, if she requires perspiration wiped from her forehead – whatever her necessities, I aspire to fulfill them entirely.”
Now, Papoose, whose birth name was Shamele Mackie, occupies the corner and heeds her discourse.
Shields is recounting to me details of her most recent bout. Papoose grins, as if he has heard the narrative previously, yet he cannot obtain enough of it.
July 26, 2025, at the Little Caesars Arena in Detroit. This marked five months since making their relationship official with Papoose (she had even acquired an epidermal inscription of his appellation on the flank of her right chest). Approximately 15,000 individuals participated in that contest, she conveys to me. Revenue from ticket sales alone generated nearly $1.5 million. She triumphed – effortlessly. Yet that is not what endures with her.
“Upon concluding my fight, people were weeping and exclaiming and desiring to capture images,” she states.
Shields became an unrestricted competitor following that contest. Papoose, an executive at Wynn Records, facilitated a fresh agreement for her in collaboration with her current promoter, Dmitriy Salita.
The outcome: a guaranteed $8 million multi-bout contract with a $3 million initial payment – the most substantial accord in the annals of female boxing. At the press briefing, Shields acknowledged Papoose, proclaiming it would have been impossible without him. She also declared a new ambition: a $50 million compensation for a singular match. Just like Floyd Mayweather.
Between Andi’s implement strokes, Shields navigates her Instagram. She recites her follower metrics on each digital platform. 1.6 million on Instagram. 800,000 across three profiles on Facebook – one verified, one personal account, and one fan collective. 208,000 subscribers on YouTube. Across these interfaces, she has amassed over 3 million adherents. She retains these figures because she is perpetually striving to augment them.
She summons me to her proximity. She opens her update from her press gathering in Detroit four days prior. Within it, she is attired in a vibrant scarlet jumpsuit, and Papoose stands behind her, his hands clasped around her waist. Both are beaming. She accesses the commentary section and scrolls. She has limited observations on the post, so only the affirmative ones are presented to her (and to everyone else). “I don’t care what anyone believes & I’m delighted she doesn’t either!” one comment articulates. Shields affixes the remark to the summit of the segment. “Utter whatever you desire, that man is enamored,” she vocalizes the comment aloud. “Indeed, he is,” she exclaims loudly, as if engaged in an interchange with her admirer.
Andi completes the blending of the contour across Shields’ visage. She steps back to assess. The winter daylight is excessively intense, so she lowers the screen. Shields’ countenance appears more defined, more angular. Subsequently, Andi applies a coating of rose-colored lip cosmetic. She requests Shields to observe herself on the camera. Shields activates Snapchat, and unbeknownst to me, commences documenting our conversation as she pouts and displays her makeup. She informs me her aspiration is to publish 100 snaps daily.
Fourteen years following her triumph in her initial Olympic gold medal, she is at the peak of her notoriety. According to Google Trends, U.S. search engagement concerning Shields notably elevated in December 2024 when her bond with Papoose began to proliferate. U.S. search interest in Shields achieved an unprecedented peak in July 2025, surging almost 300% higher than it was preceding her liaison with Papoose. I inquire of her why – after all this period – is everyone so deeply invested in her existence?
Shields, now 30, references the names of some of the paramount athletes of all eras, competitors who have transcended their disciplines to attain an almost mythical stature.
“Listen,” she states, pausing. “I witnessed it occur for Jordan, LeBron, Kobe.”
“They are prevailing, they are prevailing, they are prevailing, and it reaches a point where when you persistently observe these individuals triumph, you think, ‘Where is the exhilaration?’ Now you suddenly wish to see them falter. You commence scrutinizing minor details.
“‘We’ve seen her secure 19 global championships.’ Now people desire to witness me struggle, they wish to see me defeated,” she articulates.
She is animated now. Gesticulating wildly with her hands, she mentions she observed, as an impressionable young woman, what Serena Williams endured. And, drawing a comparison between herself and Williams,
she states she’s experiencing identical handling.
“Serena Williams was excelling in competitions, and individuals were commenting on the ample size of her posterior, her powerful physique, her lips — people labeling her a monkey,” she explains. “The identical things occur to me — monkey, unattractive, masculine in build, your posterior is overly large, your back is too broad.”
She gazes up at Papoose, grins towards him. He regards her with deep affection.
“And that’s excluding the romantic complexities,” she further states.
“I possess 19 global titles, in addition to two Olympic gold medals, coupled with a remarkable disposition, a superb physique, excellent online visibility, and a wonderful partner,” she declares, stressing the final two words.
“My self-assurance is unwavering. Occasionally, that can be daunting to others.”
Shields inspects the Snaps she recently shared of her cosmetics. She dislikes her pink lips. She recalls to Andi that she had requested red. Andi cleanses her lips and restarts the application.
What is the purpose of all this — the cosmetics, the deluge of online posts, the online provocateurs — what’s the objective? I repeatedly pose a version of this query. She shuts her lips on instructions from Andi. She cannot have vivid crimson lip color adhered to her teeth. “That would be visible in all the photographs, heavens above.” Subsequently, she pats Andi’s hand. Andi hesitates. A grave expression settles on Shields’ countenance.
“I am the essence,” she declares.
ENVELOPING HER BLACK fleece garment around her frame, Shields emerges onto the veranda of the residential building, her long black braids flowing down her back. She made a spontaneous alteration to her attire. The red one was too formal, so she has opted for a pink sleeveless ensemble. She’s retaining her Ugg boots. Papoose, donned in a brown jacket, accompanies her. Their driver, Alvin, arrives in a black Mercedes-Benz Sprinter. He supports Shields’ fingers as she ascends the stairs. I proceed to the back of the van, but Papoose proffers me his spot next to her. “I have no objection,” he states and settles in the back row.
It’s dim inside the Sprinter except for the purple star lights adorning the roof. They glisten on Shields’ face, rendering her cheeks rosier and her lips more crimson.
We’re discussing notoriety. She recounts the initial period of being assailed with remarks on social media. A year prior, she revealed her relationship with Papoose. They’d been seeing each other for several months, and it seemed like the logical progression. The first video to spread rapidly: Papoose crooning to her with his renowned Busta Rhymes 2006 remix “Touch It” as she enters the arena in her spangled black and gold ensemble before her bout against Danielle Perkins. A grinning broadly Shields grooves to the rap, whispering the lyrics as she observes the multitude of nearly 6,000 individuals in Flint.
For years, Shields had anticipated her recognition. Now, abruptly, and concurrently, the world acknowledged her and granted her the acclaim she had longed for. Yet, concurrent with the acclaim also arrived unending and spirit-draining antagonism. Instantaneously, her relationship transformed into everyone’s affair. She wasn’t ready for the animosity.
“When you enter a partnership, everyone desires to pry into your affairs,” Shields states. “I’ve never encountered such a situation because I’ve never been involved with famous personalities — so partnering with him, it was like…” She makes a swishing noise, sweeping her arm over her head to illustrate how frenzied her life rapidly turned.
Shields furrows her brow. She appears vexed. All she perceives are falsehoods, falsehoods, falsehoods when she browses online, she expresses. Unfamiliar individuals fabricating a story of their relationship.
“Only he and I understood the chronology,” she asserts, her voice elevating.
In quick succession, she recounts to me the story of their courtship, as though she’s seeking to persuade me. Or perhaps what she’s aiming to do is convince online detractors through me. Or maybe she wishes to prevent the falsehoods from establishing themselves as truth, so she continually reiterates what transpired to reaffirm for herself — and everyone — the reality.
By the time they encountered in July 2024 at a Stevenson match in Newark, New Jersey, Papoose and Remy Ma had already parted ways, Shields states. Shields asked him to her match in Detroit at the close of the month. Afterward, they started exchanging messages; they occasionally dispatched verses to each other. (“Absolutely not!” she exclaims when I ask her to display some.) Some of it was amorous, but some pertained to her youth, her challenging formative years, and how she’d succeeded “brick by brick.” Shields is not a rapper, but Papoose found her verses so melodious, so evocative.
Shields halts and nods negatively.
“Regarding our cohabitation, like, ‘Oh, he was with me and his ex simultaneously,’ that was utterly fictitious. 100% unfounded, but this is what they were endeavoring to depict out there,” she asserts.
Alerts streamed from every quarter. Individuals who were unacquainted with her vented animosity at her. Fans venerated Papoose and Remy Ma’s nearly two-decade-long romance, which encompassed Papoose remaining supportive while Remy Ma served a six-year incarceration for firing upon an acquaintance outside a nightclub. Their saga as spouses and then guardians was documented for the public’s view in the unscripted television program “Love & Hip Hop: New York,” which broadcast on VH1 from 2011 to 2020.
So when their marriage dissolved and Shields’ relationship with Papoose flourished, fans struggled to accept it. Shields served as their scapegoat. When Remy Ma aired her grievances with Papoose on social media, sharing captures of messages alleging Papoose of being unfaithful to her with Shields, it sanctioned public commentary. They labeled Shields a disrupter of households. They scrutinized every video, every photo that she or Papoose shared. They deemed her unattractive. Papoose is 17 years Shields’ older and has a child who is nearly her age. They branded her gullible. If Papoose grinned too intensely at her, they deemed his affection for her insincere. If he was insufficiently cheerful, they suggested he was discontent. When he declared his affection for her, they called him a deceiver.
Shields did not retreat. She published on X that she’s prepared for a confrontation — like physically contend — Remy. On one occasion, she labeled an admirer who called her unattractive, “corpulent.” Sometimes, she created clips, inquiring of individuals why they visit her online channels to disseminate antagonism when they profess disapproval of her. “Why are you all so bothered?” Sometimes, she shared again Papoose’s posts of her and provoked the provocateurs. “All the animosity in direct messages because my partner shared images of me for the twentieth time.” Sometimes, she incited them. “When I conceive, you all will be weeping in the car, striking the driving wheel.” Sometimes, she appeared truly bewildered. “If I have you restricted on Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, and Facebook, what are you doing still producing clips and gossip about me.” she penned. “OBSESSIVES!!!!!” she branded them.
Individuals labeled her immature, and queried why she declined to adopt a dignified approach and disregard the detractors, the provocateurs. She engaged in confrontation with fellow public figures, including 50 Cent, Jake Paul, Ryan Garcia, and Angel Reese.
I inquire of her the frequency with which she perceives an inability to prevail against these online detractors.
“Condemned if you act, condemned if you refrain,” she replies swiftly.
“I can alter my demeanor immediately,” she remarks, hunching her shoulders and lowering her gaze.
“Should anyone deem me unattractive, my response is…”
Her tone softens, becoming high-pitched. She elongates her words, delivering them deliberately. For the first occasion since our meeting today, her gaze drops to the floor rather than meeting mine directly.
“Ah, bless their spirit. I shall simply offer prayers for them. I truly regret that you harbor such sentiments towards me.”
She straightens her posture. Her voice descends to a deep, stern register.
“Everyone would assume I’d been utterly duplicated, exclaiming, ‘Where in the world is the champion?'” she declares, her utterances growing progressively more audible. A slight grin plays on her lips.
“Not a chance. That will never transpire. Not I.”
I inquire how she might have managed this degree of renown ten years prior.
“I’d be incarcerated,” she replies, releasing a burst of laughter. “Had they shown me disrespect in those days, they would have faced severe repercussions.”
Presently, she claims, her approach is more tempered. She disregards a hundred remarks until one captures her attention that she either chooses not to — or finds herself unable to — overlook. And, she questions, why ought she to?
A serious expression settles upon her as she gazes through the window. She pulls her coat more snugly around her.
“I’ve consistently been an individual who has advocated for myself against all opposition, you understand?” she states.
THE SPRINTER HALTS at the mall’s entryway close to Madison Square Garden, allowing Papoose to acquire a cap. I inquire with Shields regarding her forthcoming bout on Feb. 22 at Detroit’s Little Caesars Arena.
I pose the query of how she propels herself — and enhances her skills — despite having an unblemished record. I had addressed this identical question to John David Jackson, her coach for eight years, just days prior. It implies, they both explained, that upon her departure from the sport, she can declare herself unbeaten. A select number of pugilists — Floyd Mayweather being one — can make such a claim. And she intensely desires this. “The mystique of invincibility vanishes once you suffer a defeat,” Jackson informed me.
“She has supporters, and she has adversaries within the sport who resent her undefeated status,” Jackson remarked. “That in itself serves as a strong impetus for her.”
Inside the Sprinter once more, she divulges her method of self-address. In the second person.
“How do you surpass your former self?” she articulates, her brows furrowed. “You are a 19-time world champion over a decade, so with an additional eight years remaining, is it possible to achieve 40 world championships?”
She appears energized.
“By golly, we might continue until we reach 40,” she exclaims, a smile gracing her face.
Her gaze falls to her phone. I ask her how she manages to find the hours to evolve into such numerous distinct iterations of herself.
She reiterates that she embodies the essence of the material. That she is the primary spectacle. When individuals acquire passes to her bout, their intention is to witness her performance. Disagreement incites enthusiasm. Provocative language generates interest.
“If one visits my Instagram or Facebook, only images of me smiling are visible. They detest that,” she states, a smirk spreading subtly across her features. “They fabricate all these falsehoods, all these narratives, and then you upload a photograph where you’re beaming and dancing; they simply cannot tolerate it.”
Countless individuals access her videos daily – showcasing her meals, conversations, workouts, and makeup routines. Many of the remarks center on Papoose. She ultimately garners 60 million daily views on her Instagram, she informs me. On Snapchat, her video content yielded $20,000 in revenue in January, she mentions.
Thus, in a sense, her association with Papoose fulfills a vital role: drawing attention to her pugilistic profession. Passes for her match are nearly depleted, she communicates. For her February 2025 contest against Perkins, following her introduction of Papoose as her associate, close to 6,000 spectators were present. In July, upon her announcement of competing in a grander venue, that figure nearly quadrupled to 15,369. On this occasion, she is anticipated to reach 18,000, her largest viewership to date. She desires an extraordinary display.
It remains uncertain whether she has grappled with the notion that following her reign as the premier boxer of her era, a liaison with a musician has fueled her celebrity — or perhaps her notoriety. The point she consistently reiterates is this: Absent her remarkable career and her spirited disposition, there would be nothing for the populace to scrutinize. In her perception, everything is intertwined. As she repeatedly declares: she possesses two Olympic gold medals, 19 global titles, an impressive physique, a captivating demeanor and an admirable partner.
“Ultimately, even if you exhibit animosity, you must, in some manner, cherish me, as you continue to create videos about me and persist in monitoring my activities,” she remarks.
I inquire whether she perceives herself as changed now compared to a year prior.
She asserts she remains the identical individual. However, she engages in considerably more meditation and prayer. She senses the scrutiny of scores of young females, she states. She receives communications from emerging pugilists who designate her as their muse. Recently, the British boxer Caroline Dubois referred to Shields as her exemplar.
“I believe I’ve become significantly more amiable,” she states.
Her gaze ascends to the violet celestial patterns adorning the Sprinter’s ceiling.
Given her profound self-awareness, she explains, and her understanding of her spiritual connection, adverse remarks affect her less acutely now than they did twelve months ago.
She consistently ponders WWJD, she recounts.
I observe her with an interrogative expression.
“What action would Jesus undertake?”
She affirms with a slight inclination of her head.
We are now separating at the shopping center. I express gratitude for her companionship throughout the day.
She reclines her head against the seat, her visage concealed by obscurity. It is challenging to discern if she wears any cosmetics whatsoever.
“Therefore, you’ve conversed with me throughout this entire day, and you’ve spoken with individuals who are dear to me,” she articulates.
“What do you perceive you comprehend about me?”
Her inquiry takes me aback. I inform her that I grasp her driving forces and her connection to celebrity.
“What prompted you to pose that query?” I ask her.
“Upon reviewing the piece, I desire to anticipate what you will convey regarding me,” she states.
It is entirely an illusion, I ponder as Alvin shuts the portal behind me. Adorned with crimson lips and clutching a metallic phone beneath the violet illumination, Claressa Shields proceeds towards the Garden. The solitary battle she cannot triumph over lies ahead.