“I Wanted Blood and I Got Blood”: How The Witch Meghan O’Neill Turned Her BKFC Loss Into History
“The Witch” Meghan O’Neill’s BKFC debut didn’t go the way she’d scripted it. Terri Diamond caught her with a ferocious flurry of uppercuts less than two minutes into the first round, forcing her to take a knee and end the contest at 1:44. The finish was brutal, decisive, and came from a fellow debutant who proved the technical boxing background Diamond carried into bare knuckle carried weight.
“The Witch” Meghan O’Neill In BKFC
But here’s what made O’Neill’s loss feel like anything but a setback: she walked into that Derby ring as the first woman from Northern Ireland to ever compete in the BKFC, and that historical marker became the narrative that shaped everything afterward. When she posted about the loss on Instagram, you’d struggle to find the word “loss” in there. Instead, she talked about getting exactly what she wanted, blood, punishment, and the kind of action that gloves had always prevented.
“I wanted blood and I got blood,” she wrote, crediting Diamond as the best woman on the night and acknowledging the performance with a respect that suggested she’d measured the loss against her own ambitions, not against winning. Her earlier post reinforced the angle:
“Still showed up, still went viral, still got paid.” For O’Neill, this wasn’t about a scoreboard. It was about breaking through a barrier that no other woman from her region had crossed, doing it on a global platform, and using the platform, even in defeat, to cement a narrative about toughness and extremism that had already made her a talking point.
The numbers back this up. O’Neill holds Irish powerlifting records for her weight class. She has a BA in Philosophy and Psychology from The Open University. She was earning over £10,000 monthly as a model before walking into the ring, so the “still got paid” comment wasn’t humblebragging. She brought zero formal combat experience into her two boxing matches before this debut, yet fought someone two stone heavier and a foot taller in her first bout anyway.
What emerged from the post-fight interviews was something harder to dismiss than the KO itself: a fighter articulating the difference between losing and failing. O’Neill described the experience as something she’d “relive without changing a single thing,” adding that wins, losses, and draws were all chapters in a story that mattered because she was making them public, in real time, without the filter of a traditional athlete’s carefully managed image. Her transparency became part of the product – haters included, fake friends exposed, structural support celebrated. The Witch didn’t frame herself as victimized by the loss; she framed the entire experience as authentic and therefore valuable.
By December 18th, five days after getting stopped, O’Neill was already declaring a specific goal: “I’ll have a BKFC belt around my waist within the year. That’s a FACT!!!”
