Let me start by saying this isn’t your typical celebrity memoir. Cher’s voice—both literal (thanks to Stephanie J. Block’s eerily similar narration) and emotional—pulls you into a world that’s equal parts glitter and grit. I found myself pausing the audiobook just to sit with her revelations about Sonny: the way she describes their toxic-yet-tender dynamic isn’t salacious; it’s painfully human. That duality hooked me.

The book shines when Cher peels back the sequins to reveal her upbringing. Her mom’s dependence on men, the poverty, the chaos—it’s all there, but so is her wry humor. One minute she’s recounting trauma, the next she’s cracking a sarcastic jab about a hideous 70s outfit. It feels like late-night confessions with a friend who refuses to play the victim.

As someone who grew up watching reruns of *The Sonny & Cher Show*, I was shocked by how little I knew. The chapter where she describes singing backup for Phil Spector reads like a fever dream—you can almost smell the studio cigarettes. And yes, Bob Mackie’s designs get their due (that gold lamé jumpsuit story is *chef’s kiss*), but it’s her work ethic that steals the show. Who knew Cher was hustling contracts and fighting creative control battles in heels?

Trigger warnings aside (and they should be heeded), what sticks with me is her resilience—not as a slogan, but as a survival tactic. When she admits to still loving Sonny despite everything? That messy honesty is why I preordered Part Two before finishing this one.