Self-described as “the most West Coast person you will ever meet,” it’s hard to picture Molly leaving her beloved coast for Toronto – but that’s exactly what she did right out of high school when she left to pursue a music degree, only to return two years later.

“I wasn’t planning on going to university. I was 16 when I was making [my first studio album] Elevator Music and I was like, ‘this is great. I have a full-time career,’” she says. “Then COVID happened and I realized I can’t fill up seven days a week with music, so my first thought was that I should probably go to school.”

While this may sound like a responsible decision for a mega-talented high schooler with a record deal to make, the singer found that her boundless creativity was stifled by the academic environment. Adding insult to injury, Annelle found herself in a toxic relationship that further drained her.

“I got into a really toxic relationship with a musician, and I kind of became more of his cheerleader than my own. We were together for just over a year and we broke up because he was hooking up with the lead singer in his band, who was a good friend of mine as well,” she says. “That snapped everything into focus for me; I realized I hate my school, I’m only in Toronto because of this boy, and I’m not writing anything. I had cut my hair and I had changed everything about my fundamental core to be more like [the girl he cheated on me with] because I knew that he really liked her.”

Heartbroken and creatively exhausted, the singer returned to her parents’ home in Vancouver. Going through a break-up so bad it makes you want to reconvene with nature can make a person liable to blame their former partner for almost anything, especially for making them lose sight of who they are. However, there was a more deep-seated issue at play. Like most former child prodigies, Annelle needed to unpack a certain “G” word that had been chasing her since childhood. 

“The G-word, the gifted word, it was always floating around,” she says. “It definitely made me uncomfortable…since I was a child, I felt like the only valuable thing I could do was put on a good performance. I remember feeling like, ‘Oh, if I don’t make music, I’m wasting my gifts.’ So, I needed to reassess. Where does my validation come from? Who am I? Where does my happiness come from?” 

Over the past year, the songstress set out to answer just that. Swapping pressure for pleasure, Annelle has found her peace in the lush West Coast, settling into a fulfilling new job, leaning on the support of her family, and reconnecting with her long-time friends, who you can see starring in the whimsically Western new music video for “leave your lova.”

The artist says that the children she meets at her job have also played a huge part in helping her in her journey. “Coming into my adulthood, I realized that I’m so much more than my musical ability,” she says. “There are other things that I can do. That’s another reason why I’m glad to be working with kids…the kids couldn’t care less that I make music.”

Anchored by overwhelming love and support from her hometown community, the “Trophy Wife” singer got right back into the studio, ready to chronicle her year of rest and realization in what she feels is her most confessional album yet.

“I’m obviously not the same girl I was when I did Elevator Music. Now that I actually want to be making music again, it doesn’t feel like I’m being negligent if I don’t,” she says. “There’s nothing forced about it…In this reintroduction of Molly, I’m showing a new side of my writing, with songs that are more acoustic and conducive to deeper lyrics.”

Despite the album’s deeper subject matter, Annelle lights up when she gushes about the process of making Junebug over swapped stories, snack breaks and bouts of laughter alongside her co-writer and bestie, Max Cunningham.

“Every part of it is made with love. I just want people to feel something in their bellies. Like, I want them to get that nice, warm tummy feeling that you get when you hear a song you really like,” she says. “Max is one of the girls for sure. He took care to make sure this record wasn’t masculinized. We wanted to keep it soft and feminine and wholesome. That’s the way that it was made and the way it’s supposed to be perceived.”

Letting go of perfection, Annelle is embracing the uncertainty of girlhood with a refreshing childlike wonder. Combining mature and introspective lyrics with her sophisticated sense of musicality, the singer faces down the horrors of dating in your early 20s on Junebug, speaking to every girl who loves too hard or gives too much – or, as Molly puts it, is too stupid for love.