Hayden Anhedönia, better known by her stage name Ethel Cain, isn’t afraid to share a bleak prediction about the digital age. In a new Cosmopolitan cover story, the 27-year-old artist declared: “I’m anti-internet. I think that the internet is a breeding ground for all of the worst parts of human nature. I think that the internet will be the death of society and human beings as a species. You can quote me on that when we’re all dead.”
It’s a fittingly apocalyptic statement from a musician whose work often explores tragedy, trauma, and Southern gothic storytelling. But Cain doesn’t live in her character’s shadow, she insists Ethel is a cautionary tale rather than a mirror. “She makes all the mistakes so that I can learn from her mistakes and do better,” Cain explained.
Music as Confession
Cain’s 2022 breakout album Preacher’s Daughter and her 2025 follow-up Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You dive headfirst into religious trauma, abuse, and fictionalized romance. The latter builds on an imagined love story, even as Anhedönia experiences her first real relationship in the present.
Writing became a way of projecting her longings. “If I’m not going to be in love right now, I’m going to run through my ideal relationship and the way I want to experience love,” she said of crafting Willoughby Tucker.
Public Scrutiny and Personal Lessons
Cain’s career hasn’t been without controversy. Last summer, old social media posts resurfaced that included racial slurs. She issued an apology for “inflammatory” remarks but claimed her accounts had been hacked and described the backlash as part of a transphobic smear campaign.
“This year has been a wake-up call about existing as a trans woman who isn’t palatable to the general public and who is very open about harsh topics,” she told Cosmopolitan. While she condemned racism outright, Cain also reflected on how the internet can amplify harm, adding weight to her declaration about its corrosive impact.
Searching for Love Beyond the Music
Raised in a homeschooling household with a blue-collar father and “weird girl” mother, Cain admits she long struggled with insecurity. “I believed for a very long time that I was very undesirable,” she said. For years, she buried herself in her art, believing people could love the music even if they didn’t love her.
Now, she’s navigating her first relationship, one she describes as echoing her parents’ dynamic. “I’ve always asked God for a love like my parents, for better or worse,” she said. And though she jokes about her type: “bald, weirdo, masculine, white trashy dudes,” the connection she feels is genuine.
A Voice That Refuses to Be Quieted
Whether she’s calling out the pitfalls of digital culture or writing songs that dig into hidden scars, Ethel Cain has never shied away from unsettling truths. Her music may be fictionalized, but the vulnerability behind it is very real.
“I’ve spent years trying ignorance is bliss, but even then you know something is not right,” she said. “You’re like, There’s something scary in my closet, I can hear it scratching at night.”
For Cain, art isn’t just an escape, it’s a survival mechanism in a world she believes is fraying.
