Gays and queers are clearly not the target demographic for World Wrestling Entertainment, nor do any solid statistics exist showing the amount of queers watching professional wrestling on a regular basis. Yet as the storylines of the WWE become increasingly complex, the LGBT fan-base of the continually growing media franchise seems to be on the rise with increasing visibility.

The WWE isn't the same organization we once knew. With politics slowly shifting towards more progressive themes and tropes, we're seeing an entirely new generation of pro-wrestling enthusiasts. After talking to a handful of LGBTQ wrestling fans about what draws them to the sports entertainment art form, here are 7 reasons why WWE has a growing gay fanbase.

New Politics and HHH's Reign 

For much of the millennial generation's youth, boys were socialized to images of muscle-choked men and mud-wrestling women—a particularly horrific (and endlessly captivating) picture of gender relations in the ‘90s. More recently, the WWE has shied away from relying on regressive gendered stereotypes: whether this is a reflection of genuine progressive politics or a smart move to curtail critics from a new generation of neo-liberal-minded concern is impossible to tell. Nonetheless, homophobic epithets thrown in-between-match shit-talking sessions are a thing of the past.

Part of this, as noted to me by a transgender wrestling fan named Riley, has to do with the transition in leadership from Vince McMahon to his son-in-law Triple H, himself a legendary wrestler: “When Triple H takes over for Vince I believe a lot will change ... [Triple H favors those] who kick ass regardless of gender or sexuality. I do also think in the future, a transgender wrestler could definitely have a chance.”

 The Divas Division

Only a few short months ago, the Divas division introduced a handful of mega-talented female brawlers to their main roster (the ladies were imported from the WWE's developmental division: NXT). Suddenly the skill level of the average lady athlete in the WWE skyrocketed and fans quickly welcomed the impossibly tough gals who, amongst fans, became known as the Four Horsewomen.

But even before the revolution, professional commentators had noticed subtle shifts in the quality of the women's league. Kotaku writer Stephen Tolito comments: “What a surprise, then, at what 2015 has wrought: a renaissance in women’s wrestling ... Any long-time WWE fan might be shocked ... there is nary a women’s match set in pudding, where there are multiple storylines involving women wrestlers, where there is a deep roster of women wrestlers, where the women are given time to wrestle an interesting match, where they’re presented as athletes. Where, hell, they’re treated, basically, the way the best male wrestlers are treated.” This kind of reasonable gender parity is certainly progress for the company, and probably a draw to female and/or queer audiences who would otherwise be put off by the over-sexualized pandering to a heterosexual male audience.

Darren Young and Gay Visibility

Given these changes, it's no surprise that the WWE had its first athlete come out of the closet. Darren Young's announcement was met with almost universal approval from within the league. Even though his “character” is ostensibly straight, many have already begun speculating on when a queer romance will eventually become part of the storyline.

But Darren Young's openness isn't the only nod to gays. Shortly after his coming out, many wrestlers would participate in the endlessly publicity churning NOH8 campaign (the sincerity of which is quite obviously dubious). Veritable humanitarian Saint John Cena has spoken quite openly about his gay brother and WWE legend Stone Cold Steve Austin loudly advocated for gay marriage. More subtle queer winks aren't entirely absent either: the bleach-blonde twink with a WWE tat appearing on the company's Hulu commercial, wrestler Naomi's vogue-inspired death-drop in her recently-released single, the entire character of the Russian super-villain Lana (whose similarity to the famous Soviet drag queen Katya is undeniable), or the now-legendary Dolph Ziggler vs Sheamus “Kiss Me Arse” match (the overtones of which were both deeply homophobic and deeply homoerotic).

Gender Performance As Entertainment

Last year NPR tackled the subject decently in anticipation of the debut of both the private WWE streaming service and the 6^th season of RuPaul's Drag Race. Writer Libby Hill astutely noted: “The greatest signifier that times have changed is that the place where hard and fast rules about what gender is and is not is in those shows where gender plays not as an informing factor, but rather as full-blown performance art. And in that, there is relief. Drag queens, wrestlers, all are pretending. And so are we. No one wants to fail at being a man or being a woman. So perhaps true victory comes in realizing we're all just approximating … And it's all on Monday nights.” Isn't professional wrestling just a different kind of drag—performed predominantly by and for straights instead of gays, but still with the very category of gender at stake? Suddenly the artificiality of the most artificial of art forms becomes an inherent concern of the viewers, and of the narrative itself. To suggest that concerns about artificiality are inherently queer would be reductive, but it's certainly something to ponder, especially in the context of (the socially constructed category of) gender presentation. 

The Pageantry

“Something I realized while taking classes is how self-aware wrestlers are,” said Emily, a queer wrestler from Brooklyn. “You don't always get that when watching, you just assume most of the writers do all the work … Like, my trainer was talking about measuring how long to hold a pose. Three grunts. It helps to sell it because it looks like you're in pain and it gives enough time for people in the back row to see what the hell is going on. He tells us to think about the photographers because you want to make it look pretty. If you get a really good picture it means you were making it look good for the whole audience.”

Chris Kelly, who performs as the drag queen Ariel Italic around New York, added: “They say in musical theater that people sing when their feelings get so big that they can't be contained in speech anymore. Wrestling is like that but with physical assault … There's beauty in watching a good wrestler because they do amazing things with their bodies. It can be very acrobatic. Or surprising, or frightening, or funny. And most of the time that's intentional. And when it's not, there's a sense of danger that's really compelling, because you have to figure out what layer of reality you're on.”

“I have to admit that I succumb to the game of 'which of these wrestlers would I sleep with?'” he continued. “But I won't base my answer on that … Cody Rhodes' transformation into Stardust was a weird, wonderful twist, and I've loved seeing him sink his teeth into this new side of his character. AJ Lee kills me because her acting is so on-point and she's also physically a good wrestler. And I'm really excited about Finn Bálor from NXT; he's doing things with make-up that would probably impress RuPaul.”

The Fan Fiction

The wrestlers’ bodies are an obvious draw for queers. As with any sport, these professional entertainers are at the peak of their physical prowess, and the constant same-sex skin-to-skin contact is surely titillating for some. Fantasies about the wrestlers proliferate on the Internet, where gay fan fiction and role play scenarios about pretty much any superstar aren't hard to find. Fanfiction.net and tumblr, of course, feature plenty of WWE erotica along with out-of-context gifs of wrestlers in compromising physical positions. Wrestlers with typically pretty faces are clearly favorites here: CM Punk, Jack Swagger, and Cesaro seem to be the most heavily featured, sometimes accompanied by crudely drawn fan art of the men cuddling afterward. 

The Pretty Boys

While it's easy to assume that wrestling fans are drawn to the characters for their obvious physical statures, the pretty boys and good-looking villains of the WWE also mean something quite different to some fans. Gay wrestling fan James Henry tells me: “All of them were narcissistic heels, often times concerned about their appearance and attractiveness even in the middle of a match. They were universally hated by audiences. Their characters could be on the prissy, feminine side... But, importantly, they were also tough. [They] wrestled 'like men'; they didn’t run away screaming at the thought of throwing a punch. Their opponents often underestimated them, confusing their 'feminine' traits for weakness … They were hated for who they were, I was hated for who I was. But it didn’t have to get me down. I could still be me no matter what anyone else thought.” The trope of the pretty-boy wrestler continues in the ring today with NXT superstars like Tyler Breeze, a sort of EDM-inspired update on the cliché.