How One Woman Made Me Believe I Was a Firework, Even When I Was Eating Taco Bell in Bed at 3 A.M.
Some pop stars make music. Katy Perry makes moments.
Whether you were scream-singing “Roar” during a breakup, blasting “Teenage Dream” on a road trip, or quietly crying to “Firework” while pretending it was just really good allergies, chances are you’ve felt the gravitational pull of a Katy Perry anthem. She’s not just catchy—she’s culturally embedded, soundtracking everything from high school dances to political rallies, halftime shows to queer awakenings. The woman doesn’t write songs; she codes emotional timestamps into our brains.
Let’s talk about it.
“Firework”: The Battle Cry for the Insecure
If you didn’t feel something stir in your soul the first time you heard “Firework,” you might be a robot—or a straight man with no emotional access. Either way, this song has become one of the definitive empowerment anthems of the 2010s, and for good reason.
Lines like “Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?” were mocked at first—and then turned around and hit all of us in our metaphorical plastic-bag hearts. Why? Because we have felt discarded, unseen, like we were floating through life without direction. Katy Perry took that vulnerability and gave it a soundtrack. The emotional arc? Iconic. The crescendo? Cathartic. The music video? Exploding bras, body diversity, and queer teens kissing. She said, “This one’s for the outsiders,” and then set them on fire. Beautifully.
“Teenage Dream”: Euphoria Bottled in a Chorus
There are few songs that can turn a Target parking lot into a cinematic experience—and “Teenage Dream” is one of them. It’s nostalgia soaked in whipped cream and sunflare. It’s the fantasy of young love that’s so intense, you actually believe you’ll feel this way forever.
And the brilliance of it? It doesn’t sound juvenile. It sounds hopeful. It captures a pure, joyful yearning that adults still ache for. The production is warm and dreamlike. Her voice floats more than belts. It’s not just about romance—it’s about remembering a version of yourself you were allowed to love. A freedom before shame, before disappointment. “Teenage Dream” isn’t just a bop—it’s a time machine.
“Roar”: Your Inner Phoenix’s Alarm Clock
“Roar” came at a time when self-help books were selling like gospel and everyone was burning sage to cleanse toxic energy. And here comes Katy Perry, wrapped in tiger print, singing what might as well be the affirmation anthem for a whole damn decade.
It’s a little cheesy, sure. But there’s something magnetic about its simplicity. She’s not trying to out-poet anyone here—she’s writing straight-to-the-gut pop, and it works. Especially for people who’ve had to reclaim their voice after being silenced. (Ahem, looking at you, trauma survivors. Me. I’m looking at me.)
Plus, it’s versatile. Want to quit your job? “Roar.” Dump your gaslighting ex? “Roar.” Finally go to therapy after years of bottling everything up? “Rooooooar.”
Katy’s Real Power: Building Pop Mythology
What makes Katy Perry stand out isn’t just her knack for catchy choruses—it’s her unapologetic embrace of camp, sincerity, and pop spectacle all in one. She’s not afraid to be dramatic. She’s not afraid of metaphor. She isn’t trying to make high-brow indie statements about the world—she’s telling you, in no uncertain terms, that you matter.
She gives us permission to be over-the-top. To believe in transformation. To cry and dance at the same time. And for those of us who grew up being told to tone it down, to hide our joy or weirdness or desire to wear LED peacock costumes—Katy said, “Actually, no. Turn it all the way up.”
The Lasting Impact
You can measure the success of a pop anthem by how often it shows up in culture after its release. “Firework” became a staple for coming-out videos, flash mobs, and emotionally manipulative talent show montages. “Roar” soundtracked everything from Hillary Clinton campaign ads to Peloton commercials. “Teenage Dream”? Still one of the most streamed tracks of the 2010s and played at every gay bar at least once a night, by law.
But beyond the chart stats, it’s the emotional fingerprints that matter. Katy’s songs don’t just get stuck in your head—they get woven into your memories. They tell you, in the most glitter-soaked, euphoric way possible, that your life is worth celebrating.
And when the world feels too hard, too heavy, or just too, sometimes all you need is a pop anthem that says:
“Baby, you’re a firework. Come on, show ‘em what you’re worth.”
Or, you know—just a song that makes dancing in your kitchen in pajama pants feel like a Grammy moment.