Okay, let’s be real – when Cher writes a memoir, you drop everything and read it. This first volume? Absolute fire. Her voice (both literal and narrative) leaps off the page like she’s sitting across from you at some vintage Hollywood diner, chain-smoking while spilling decades of tea.

The way she describes her early days? Gut-wrenching. Poverty, addiction, trauma – but zero self-pity. Just this fierce determination that makes you wanna stand up and slow-clap when she talks about outworking every doubter. Also, her mom stories hit different – complicated love that’ll make you text your own mom immediately.

Now the Sonny chapters? Wild ride. She somehow makes you understand why she stayed with a controlling partner while never sugarcoating the messiness. That childlike affection she still has for him? Either deeply healing or slightly concerning – can’t decide.

PSA: The Bob Mackie costume details are *chef’s kiss*. You can practically feel the sequins. And her humor? Still sharper than those 70s cheekbones. Only complaint: ending on a cliffhanger before her movie era?! Criminal. November 2025 can’t come fast enough.

Trigger warnings apply, but damn if this isn’t the most human celebrity memoir since… well, ever. 5/5 would recommend reading while blasting ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ at max volume.