Whenever I was sad, I played “Believe” on my iPod nano and put feathers in my hair to recreate the music video (with the door locked, obviously). When I learned who Cher was years later, I became obsessed with both her look and her discography. All I knew was that the music I was hearing made me feel free.
I couldn’t tell if the person singing was a man or a woman, where they came from, or what, exactly, they were singing about. I knew there was something different about me when I first heard Cher’s “Believe.” Her robot voice belted over the radio while I was on my way to my first grade class, and the sheer strength of her vocals shook my organs.
