Petals for Armor and The Art of Healing
Rage. Lust. Grief. Envy. Mercilessness. Femininity. We open on repetitive sounds and a lone beatbox beat before we hear a gasp and long exhale, the music building on from there. The first word we hear: rage. An almost questioning of it — the way it sneaks up on you in all of its passionate glory, and the surprise of feeling it. On a personal level, this is an almost perfect musical depiction of my journey with trauma and the stages of healing from it. The decision to lead with this track in the rollout of Hayley Williams’ debut solo album Petals for Armor feels deliberate and, for me, necessary.
Oftentimes, we find that music comes at times when we need it most. The guttural anger in her quiet, almost raspy and raw tone on this track grasps the feeling of a quiet rage. One with time to stir and settle, not a quick anger, but one that has been held below the surface under a calm and cool demeanor whilst threatening to boil over at any given moment.
In the imagery of “Simmer” It leaves words unsaid, but in turn says so much more. (Not even taking into account the wonderful mind-fuck of a music video that leaves you absolutely reeling and wondering what exactly it is that you just witnessed even after the screen cuts to black.) Hayley Williams herself has said that this song is an ode to the women in her life who have faced horrors at the hands of men, and the less intense, but still messed up, things she wishes she could protect her younger self from. The ways to interpret it are almost infinite in that aspect and helped me unearth the deep rage I have felt for so long that I no longer recognized it for what it was.
“If I had seen my reflection as something more precious then he would have never- And if my child needed protection from a fucker like that man, I’d sooner gut him. ’Cause nothing cuts like a mother…”
After the trauma I faced, I felt naked and…different. I could no longer be soft, gentle, feminine. Adding in the way I view and experience gender as a Black lesbian, it was something on an entirely different plane. For once, with this song, I was given the space to feel my anger and anguish and finally realize that I am allowed to be angry at what I endured and what I felt I lost in the midst of it. But, even still, that rage and despair does not strip one of their femininity.
Hayley’s usage of flower petals as armor in a soft, quiet tone after singing of a deep grief and anger felt so real and raw and healing. In her words and haunting vocals, I found closure that I didn’t know I was searching for. That feeling carried on in varied ways throughout the entirety of this record.
On tracks “Leave It Alone” and “Cinnamon” there is grief and a deep loneliness with an underlying want for things to just be better already in two contrasting forms. The former a more defeated and weighed down version: “Don’t nobody tell me that God don’t have a sense of humor. ’Cause now that I want to live, well, everybody around me is dying.” sings Williams, sounding almost defeated. A change from the raging or pessimistic anger we had grown accustomed to with Paramore.
We hear the pain in how in the midst of healing, things came crashing down around her. In a Beats 1 interview Hayley herself said: “And I just thought, like, what is the point of loving people? Like why? Even in the best case scenario is I fall in love, we have a life together and then we lose one or the other. It’s terrifying. The more you love, the more you stand to lose…” Which is a thought I myself and many other people grapple with especially in a time of so much loss.
The music video, being a continuation of the last, is a visual of a rebirth, of just trying to re-learn how to navigate this world, and both honor your past self whilst still moving forward. As we unearth our traumas and strip ourselves bare to let go and go onward, nothing could be more fitting.
At the other end is the 80’s pop/R&B-esque, Janet Jackson inspired “Cinnamon.” Here she describes her home and her routines as a safe haven and something to ground her even in the midst of her grief, and trauma, and loneliness. Despite its emptiness and the loneliness that seeps through the walls, it’s her space to learn that rebuilding and to fill it with things that bring her peace, joy, and comfort going forward.
Featuring a video wherein we see Hayley confronted by, and proceeding to dance with, (what we can assume to be) her personal demons. And, honestly? Mood. Sometimes instead of fighting your demons you just gotta drink some lemon water and dance with ‘em — maybe some days that’s all you really can do. I’m still learning to be okay in my solitude and gentle with myself in times where it feels too heavy to bear, but fun choreo definitely doesn’t hurt.
Moving onto “Creepin’” next, a track in which Williams sings about a metaphorical energy vampire — someone who sucks the energy and life out of you. Be it a negative or toxic person in your life, or maybe even an abuser, there are any number of people who can make us feel drained or who prey on us in our most vulnerable states. To find the strength in your own self and self-worth to say: “Strange you’re not a threat to me and I admire your dedication. Poor little vampire, don’t you know that I’m a moon in daylight?” is inspiring.
It is a taking back of personal agency and a reclamation of power, which is a vital part of the process of healing. Knowing, establishing, and maintaining your boundaries and what you will endure for the sake of your mental and physical well-being. This is a song of self care.
As we move through this unpacking of trauma, rage, and grief, there is also the unearthing of desire and uncomfortable longing. In “Sudden Desire,” we see Hayley grasp with the realities of it — what it looks like to have this deep desire that every instinct in your body is rejecting and to question or fear it.
In my interpretation, “Sudden Desire” encapsulates my inability to allow myself to connect as much as I wish to following my traumas. For so long, I was convinced that those feelings did not exist for me, and I would bury or reject them until they were too present to ignore anymore. It’s something scary, learning you hold the capacity to feel a want or a desire that you believed could no longer exist for you. “Won’t fit in the room, big balloon. Trails me ’cause I can’t let go. Everywhere I go sticks close like a friend.”
Even only up to this point it feels as if this project was specifically curated to help me unpack my own traumas and begin to heal. That is the power of music in its bare truth and honesty. I found a safe haven in lyrics and melodies to strip myself bare and start the rebuilding process, in a record made by an artist detailing their own personal journey. That’s pretty damn incredible.
Pride. Resilience. Security. Trust. Rebuke. Autonomy. “Alright, it took me three days to send you this, but, uh, sorry. I was in a depression, but I’m trying to come out of it now.” The second part of Petals for Armor leads with a raw and authentic voice note before heading straight into a song both blunt and honest about living through a toxic relationship, coming to realizations, and finding your voice even still after its ending.
In the music video for “Dead Horse” (directed by Paramore’s Zac Farro) imagery alluding to several Paramore music videos and even the destruction of the same shoes worn at Hayley Williams’ wedding — a full circle moment, and one filled with accountability and purging of negative feelings, at that is seen. Almost as if after unpacking the trauma of it all, she has had a moment to sit and realize the depths of what she had gone through. There is no pride here.
Lyrically, there is an acknowledgment of her faults and her regrets whilst still maintaining the accountability given to the other person for their hand in the pain, hurt, and trauma they caused. Not a song of absolving blame, but of taking it in and freeing oneself from the shame. Here we also see growth in the water imagery used paralleling Paramore’s “Pool.”
To hold oneself accountable whilst venting all of the emotion kept inside shows growth and a need to purge the trauma and the feelings tied to it — it is a bearing of the soul. In order to truly heal and move forward, you have to accept and acknowledge it and forgive yourself. This, perhaps, is one of the hardest parts of the process.
Moving onto “My Friend” which is an ode to the strong support system and relationships you hold with friends as you deconstruct and rebuild yourself. As Williams sings “My friend, instant alibi. You’ve seen me from every side. Still down for the ride.” We picture a close friend who has seen the highs and the lows and remains standing side-by-side no matter what.
During my journey, I have leaned on my chosen family even when I struggled with pride and listened to their calls to accountability. Without their support, uplifting encouragement, and unwavering love even during my worst episodes perhaps I would not push myself to continue healing, but allow myself to wallow and find solace in unhealthy coping mechanisms.
Whether you are dealing with trauma or not, having that support and someone to turn to and lean on can be vital to survival. Just to have somebody who you can say “I’m not alright” to and know they’ll have your back and hold you up, and even someone who you can share your greatest joys with. These friends will push you towards your best self and are more than just friends, but also family, and “My Friend” is an acknowledgement of them and their importance.
As we begin the healing process, moving away from shame and anger and towards releasing and relearning, “Over Yet” begins to play. Leaning into the 80’s pop sound with a kick of a punk taste to it — reminiscent of an aerobics class — and motivational lyrics that make you want to dance your way through your depression. “[…] Get out of your head, yes, break a sweat. Baby, tell yourself it ain’t over yet.” Serving a reminder that this isn’t over and to stop allowing overthinking, and doubt, and negativity to consume us. Then, we slowly — yet surely — begin to move forward.
Leading into what is one of my personal favorites from the album, “Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris,” a feminist track featuring the group boygenius; “Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris” has a balance of softness and femininity to it, whilst maintaining a masculine edge and combining those two to make something beautiful circling back to the imagery of petals for armor. “But I am in a garden, tending to my own. So what do I care? And what do you care if I grow?”
Here we witness the inner-workings of growth and of unlearning harmful ideals and thought processes. “Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris” critiques internalized misogyny, the need to compare ourselves to others and their growth, along with the projection and unhealthy insecurities that come along with that. In Hayley’s own words: “Flowers in a garden don’t compare themselves to each other. They simply grow alongside each other, despite each other, and in many cases because of each other.”
In our healing journeys, and in our lives in general, comparing ourselves and our personal accomplishments and progress to others leads down a dark path. One in which we forget that each life journey and each experience differs greatly, and that there is nothing wrong with where you are and at which pace you move forward — so long as you move forward — uplifting those around you instead of bringing them or yourself down.
As we transition back to the R&B soft ballad that is “Why We Ever,” we get a glimpse of the harder days of healing. Here Hayley sings of her struggles with depression and projecting these struggles onto others; in turn, self-sabotaging what potentially could have been something great.
Standing as a reminder that progress isn’t linear, but, even on bad days it is still progress. “I spent the weekend at home again drawing circles on the floor. Tried to keep myself from hurting, I don’t know why anymore. I just wanna talk about it, I know I freaked you out.”
This is the stage I am at in my healing process. Learning to accept the harder days and the times where I need help and that there is no shame in reaching out, and voicing your emotions does not lessen the growth you have facilitated. It only means there is more work left to do, and even in healing there will be days where it is harder to fully let go. And that is okay.
Fear. Intimacy. Pure Emotion. Healing. Redemption. Reconnection. Acceptance. “The opposite of love is fear. I’m still trying to get used to how the former feels ’cause it feels so new. You think you know me, wait til I open up to you.”
In the song “Pure Love” we witness the reality of healing and, despite fear, how Hayley is learning to be vulnerable and open to opening up again and welcoming love in. This progress is reflected as the album goes on and the songs grow more carefree both lyrically and musically.
As her rage turns into healing, there is a subconscious switch from her past songwriting in how the album also grows louder the happier it gets, whereas, Paramore projects are known for the reverse. We are rediscovering, or perhaps just discovering joy, in all its unabashed glory. Our traumas, our pain, and our struggle do not hold us hostage — although sometimes it may feel that way. We are still human, whole and imperfect, and we learn to accept it, forgive it, and continue onward with just a little bit of optimism.
With “Taken” we see a [potential] relationship that is healthy and worth striving for. In Hayley’s newfound openness to love she shares with the world that despite what has happened, or could happen, it’s worth it. “It’s easy to see how people stop believing ’cause everyone I know’s got a broken heart and though I’m still picking up the pieces [he] makes me wanna give it another shot.”
Retaining and reclaiming the ability to love and believe in love despite trauma and the fear and anxiety it may cause, is a marker for the profound amount of growth just from tracks like “Sudden Desire” and its reluctance to intimacy…to now. You can experience all of the hurt in the world and still be deserving of a great love and happiness, those two facts are not mutually exclusive. Sometimes it takes a long while, and a whole lot of work, to reach that moment of realization. But, when it happens, it’s almost as if a switch is flipped.
Realizing I am worthy, and capable, and deserving of a strong and healthy love has been a groundbreaking part of my own healing process. My trauma does not make me broken or unlovable, and I can want and deserve more. It is unfair and unjust to project worries onto beautiful things, and learning to handle that in a healthy way with someone who makes you want to keep stopping those defense mechanisms in their tracks and keep the walls torn down is eye-opening.
Launching into the dance club/rave-y “Sugar On The Rim” (which is absolutely a song for the gays, thank you) we see Williams once again delve further into this new feeling of a healthy love that took her by surprise. Hearing more of that carefree joy that makes you want to dance under flashing neon lights and throw your head back in utter bliss. Or, if you’re like me, dance to it alone in your bedroom at approximately 2am.
“I’m not afraid of the dark side, just tell me things I don’t know. Maybe we just had to feel it, so we know the difference.” With these lyrics we come across that fearlessness and readiness to move forward and jump into a full love. Despite all that has happened, there has been enough of holding onto pain, fear, and anxiety. Now, it is time to allow oneself to feel again despite it all.
“Watch Me While I Bloom” is the second-to-last track on this record, yet just as powerful and necessary as the previous dozen or so before it. Hayley tells the world: “I’m alive in spite of me and I’m on the move. So come and look inside of me. Watch me while I bloom.”
In an entire album’s worth of full circle moments, here we come back to the theme of flower imagery. In blissful joy, she sings of how great it feels to be back in her body again and she blooms during what may be the start of the best part of her life. She’s present in the moment and she is beginning to feel normal again.
I have not yet gotten to this part in my own healing process, but I am working towards it. There have been fleeting moments where I have experienced that feeling of being back in my body and the joy of being alive — in spite of myself and all I’ve lacked in taking care of it post-trauma — but, in this song, I find the hope to keep trying until I reach that point because I owe it to myself.
We end this record on a positive note — a hopeful one. As Hayley sings: ”I don’t wanna shut you out, I don’t wanna rush around or slow down. This time I wanna stay right here. I wanna make it crystal clear that I won’t give in to the fear.” there’s a message of healing from the trauma, or getting there, anyway. Holding onto knowing that a healthy and stable love is possible and deserved. Yes, ends are inevitable, but all the best things in life are worth that risk.
Circling back to the water imagery touched on in “Dead Horse” in a more optimistic way, Williams turns it from this idea of drowning in love into something positive. She isn’t drowning or holding her breath this time, she’s falling and she’s still afraid, yes. But, she’s ready and she’s able to exhale and move forward anyway. “Crystal Clear” is a love song and a love letter to both the present and the future. There is no room for projecting past traumas and fear onto this person, there is only room for love and whatever comes next.
This is the art of healing, of growth, and of moving forward without looking back. Petals for Armor showcases an important journey in its most vulnerable light, the painful and the pleasant, and it is absolutely beautiful. That this album manages to also capture how I have felt and still feel in phases in my healing journey when I could scarcely find the words is further proof of its importance.
In its vulnerability, honesty, and transparency we see an entire new side of Hayley Williams — raw and passionate as ever. Petals for Armor is therapeutic and I am grateful for its existence and what it has meant to me and in learning to heal. Now, watch me bloom.
