How a MasterChef winner became trash-talking pro wrestler Moon Miss

On our second day of production, everything changed. 

It was July 3, 2022, and months had gone by since our first conversations with Jennifer Crawford. The two of us were working to produce a radio program and video documentary for CBC about Crawford's ascension from MasterChef Canada winner to a poster-fronting, trash-talking pro-wrestler.

The road to their rookie year in 2021 was as much about confronting grief, trauma and addiction as it was about becoming a wrestler. Moon Miss, their alter-ego, had been born out of necessity — not just out of an ice cream pun that only a true Maritimer could make. 

We spent those first months understanding the story we would tell. And on a humid July night in the belly of Propeller Brewery in Halifax, the camera was recording for the first time on Moon Miss in action. As they were tagged into the ring mid-match, Moon Miss charged another wrestler, jumped, then stomped — really hard. 

We didn't know until days later how serious the injury was. Moon Miss had broken their leg. Wrestling was definitely off the table for the time being — and possibly the documentary. 

We regrouped on a video call days later, unsure if we would be continuing. Crawford was in pain, but the shine of their enthusiasm nearly gave us a sunburn. 

They were choosing to make this a comeback story. 

A warm welcome

Over the next eight months (an eternity in local news), we were invited to doctor's appointments, training sessions and matches. 

Even though Crawford's injury kept them out of the ring, we caught up with them at wrestling shows and watched as they opened their home to the next generation of Maritime wrestling stars. 

The local wrestling community could not have been more welcoming to us. We were invited behind the scenes at shows, learned the mechanics of pro wrestling, the personas and story arcs. When we asked for videos of old shows, wrestling promoter Harold Kennedy kindly shared four gigabytes worth. No small gesture.

We learned that these packed local wrestling shows only happen thanks to a dedicated crew. The wrestlers carry the ring from storage, in pieces, to venues. They work hard to make sure everyone stays safe and audiences walk away happy. They love what they do and want more of it in Nova Scotia.

After Crawford's leg was freed from a plaster cast and fitted for a brace, we would make trips to their farmhouse about 45 minutes from Halifax. The fall leaves were changing, but Crawford's determination wasn't. Sitting around their dining room table or on their couch, with our recorders on or off, Crawford was always open, honest and direct. 

For them, wrestling and sobriety both thrive on routines like pistol squats, tasty eats and meditation.

A broken leg wasn't going to get in the way of that. 

Returning to the ring 

We knew, even before the injury, that our documentary would end with a special event that would bring together Crawford's closest friends and family over their love of wrestling and food. Crawford had been planning it for a long time. It was mentioned in our first meeting. It would be the story's big finish — but it was still unwritten.

Would Moon Miss be able to return to the ring? We didn't know exactly what the ending would be. 

Crawford was calling the special event "Bump and Feed," a play on a wrestling fundamental — you get hit, then you set up the next one. Crawford organized everything, and moved the event from the summer to October so their leg could have time to heal. 

Returning to the ring for the first time in four months was a game-day decision for Crawford. The final match was, in a way, a metaphor for Crawford's five-year transformation. 

Looking back, the ending of our documentary could have been very different.

It can feel like an impossible task to try and tell someone's story in a way that does it justice, especially when it requires unpacking painful moments and memories. There have been times over the past year that we worried this project was forcing Crawford into difficult places.

To our surprise that's not how they saw it. 

During one of our last days together, Crawford told us it felt like a gift to have this time in their life documented in such detail, no matter how hard it was at times. 

We all confront setbacks. We overcome them, only to face another blow. It can be hard to remember how we ever managed to find the strength to get through in the first place. 

Crawford embodies this. Snuggled under a blanket on their couch, two days before their gathering with family and friends, they shared this insight with us:

"Over the last few months, people have often said to me: 'Oh, you're so resilient. Oh yeah, you're just so unstoppable.' But I've stopped so many times. Sometimes for days at a time, which means Moon Miss stops, too. But it's in the stopping that we are able to keep going."

The Absolutely Canadian documentary Bump and Feed can be seen on CBC Gem or listen to the Atlantic Voice radio documentary To The Moon above.