“Papoose, you have my lawyer’s information. If you can’t afford to retain a lawyer—and since the number you gave us doesn’t appear to be tied to anyone officially retained yet—I told you I’ll pay for it. If somebody over there who loves you wants to cover it, great. That would genuinely make me happy.
Everything is signed and ready to go. I don’t want anything. I’m not even asking for child support. My daughter’s school, her babysitter, her nanny, her gymnastics, her swimming, her dance classes, her health care—all of that—I handle it like I always have. I don’t need anything. I just want to say one thing: everybody’s always like,
“Thank you to my man.” I want to say, “Thank you to my hands.” To my hands—thank you to my hands. Because I train hard, I know how to fight, and I make millions of dollars from doing what I do. So yeah—thank you to my hands.”
And that right there is the sound of a fantasy dissolving in real time, because it looks like Claressa Shields is finally stepping out of whatever fairy tale she built in her head about her and Papoose—especially after the way the internet thinks he left her hanging while he and Remy Ma stay tangled up in what’s still, on paper, a very real marriage.
Claressa and Papoose have been everywhere lately, loud with the love, matching energy at events, acting like being together was the ultimate life hack. Claressa even told the world that being with him was basically a “cheat code.” Now people are saying that “cheat code” flipped the script—and Claressa is visibly emotional, talking like she feels played, used, and positioned as the placeholder while something else gets figured out behind the scenes.
The uncomfortable part is this: when you’re publicly calling a man your king while he’s still legally tied to somebody else, you’re already standing in a situation that can crack under pressure. Claressa made it clear more than once that she’s tough in the ring but soft in her relationship, proud of being supportive, proud of how he “speaks to her,” proud of how different his support feels compared to her past.
She leaned into it. She defended it. She wore it like armor. And at a certain point, she became just as known for the drama orbiting Remy Ma as she was for boxing—because every time the blogs brought up Remy and Papoose, Claressa was right there with a response.
That’s exactly what happened when Papoose and Claressa popped up together on The Breakfast Club. The interview was supposed to be about his project, and Claressa was there as support—until the moment the Remy Ma situation came up.
The tone changed instantly. Claressa jumped in like she had been part of the marriage story from page one, saying the topic was old, saying they’ve been separated, saying Remy has “somebody too,” and basically trying to close the case with, “She’s happy, we’re happy, that’s it.”
When the hosts tried to steer the conversation back to Papoose, Claressa kept inserting herself, and viewers clocked the body language shift—like he wasn’t fully comfortable with how hard she was pressing it on-air.
And then the holiday season hit, and that’s when the vibes got louder than any interview clip. Remy Ma was outside Christmas shopping, looking good, comments praising her like she was aging backwards. Claressa was outside too, looking good too, and the internet did what it always does—turned it into a comparison game, then waited to see who would blink first.
Remy didn’t. She ignored the noise and kept moving, and that silence seemed to irritate Claressa more than a direct clapback ever could. Claressa then posted flashy content—designer bags, receipts, the whole “I don’t need a man to buy me anything, I can buy it myself” message—like she wanted to prove she was unbothered.
But people noticed the elephant in the room: Christmas came and went, and Papoose and Claressa didn’t appear to spend it together. Instead, the perception online was that he chose to be with his daughter and wife for the holiday. And regardless of anyone’s relationship status behind closed doors, the optics of a major holiday tell their own story to the public.
Claressa went live, showing her Christmas tree, presenting herself as fine, but the comments weren’t letting it slide. Folks started digging, asking why he wasn’t there, why he wasn’t acknowledging her, why she seemed to be performing “I’m good” a little too hard.
When Claressa referred to Remy as an “ex-wife,” the internet pounced, because legally, there’s no “ex” on record—at least not that the public can point to. And once that detail gets stuck in people’s heads, it becomes the lens for everything else: married on paper, boyfriend in the blogs, and Claressa in the middle trying to call it real love while the audience calls it a setup.
Then came the moment that really pushed the storyline into “they played her” territory: people rewatched Remy’s shopping video and claimed they heard a voice in the background that sounded like Papoose. Nobody has confirmed who the voice was, and internet ear-detective work is not evidence, but it didn’t matter—because that theory gave people a clean narrative.
If he was shopping with Remy while Claressa was online showing off luxury hauls, that would explain why Claressa seemed to spiral—because it would feel like you’re funding the spotlight while somebody else gets the holidays, the family time, and the real access.
To counter the chatter, Claressa posted content suggesting Papoose “came through” for her with luxury gifts—name-brand travel bags, duffels, a whole “he dropped the bag” moment, with people around her hyping it up as beautiful love. The internet watched, then did what it always does: it compared timelines. Folks claimed the items she was flexing as gifts were the same things she had just shown days earlier as purchases she made herself.
And once that contradiction started circulating, the tone shifted from “love story” to “damage control.” People began saying it was sad she felt she had to prove she was the prize, sad she was working overtime to show the world he was investing, while the louder rumor was that he was only there for the benefits and had no intention of truly closing the door with Remy.
That’s when the storyline flipped and Claressa’s tone reportedly changed. Now the chatter says she’s telling people she got played—used for access, used for resources, used as the convenient partner while the real situation stayed complicated. And the clip of her talking about lawyers, signing paperwork, and wanting nothing—especially not child support—hit different under that light.
It sounded like someone trying to regain control, not just emotionally but legally, financially, publicly. It sounded like a person trying to stop the leak before the ship takes on more water.
And in the middle of all this, the number people keep tossing around like it’s the summary of the whole mess is 19,500 USD—“bag money” math, the kind of figure fans attach to luxury receipts and holiday spending to argue over who paid for what, who benefited, and who looked foolish.
Nobody’s posted a verified invoice tied to anyone’s name, but the point isn’t the exact total—the point is what it represents in the public mind: Claressa’s independence, Claressa’s earning power, and the fear that someone might be enjoying the perks while keeping one foot in the old life.
Of course, even with Claressa sounding emotional and trying to walk things back, plenty of people aren’t buying the “I didn’t see it coming” angle. Critics say from the start it looked like Claressa wanted the win over Remy just as much as she wanted the man, that she escalated from admiration to rivalry, from “tips” to DMs, from private interest to public claiming.
And whether that’s fair or not, that’s the story people online are clinging to: that this wasn’t just romance, it was competition—and competition makes people ignore red flags they would never ignore in silence.
So now we’re here: Remy and Papoose still legally married, Claressa publicly attached to him, the holidays exposing awkward gaps, the luxury content getting timeline-checked, and Claressa on camera sounding like she’s done playing nice, done asking for anything, done pretending she needs anyone’s wallet to validate her.
The question isn’t whether the internet will keep talking—it will. The question is whether Papoose stays where the attention is while it’s profitable, or whether Claressa finally closes the chapter before she gets turned into the punchline for good.