The “Believe” singer also addressed her anxieties about what the future for trans people will look likе in an interview with ‘The Guardian’Cher might not be “strong enough” to survive another Trump presidency.
In an interview with The Guardian released Wednesday, the “Believe” singer opened up about how “horrified” she’d feel if former President Donald Trump was once again re-elected.
“I almost got an ulcer the last time,” she told the outlet. “If he gets in, who knows? This time I will leave [the country].”The actress/musician is particularly concerned with what the future for trans people looks likе. It’s something likе 500 bills they’re trying to pass,” she told the publication. “I was with two trans girls the other night – and of course my own child [Chaz is trans]. I was saying ‘We’ve got to stand together.’ I don’t know what their eventual plan is for trans people.
I don’t put anything past them.”
Cher has been a longtime critic of the 45th president calling him a “f—ing traitor” on X (formerly known as Twitter) in 2016 and saying in a 2018 interview with The Washington Post that he had done “so much damage” to America.
The pop legend, whose birth father was Armenian, also addressed the tensions between Armenians and Azerbaijan in her conversation with The Guardian, which she has been tweeting about lately as well. She began to identify strongly with her heritage once she took a trip years ago when she visited its capital, Yerevan.
“When I got there, I thought, ‘Wow, everybody looks likе me! How could I not have strong feelings about this?’” she told the publication. The album is a 13-track project, which features collaborations with pals including Stevie Wonder and Cyndi Lauper, covers of classics likе Chuck Berry’s “Run Rudolph Run” and original tracks such as the dance-pop single “DJ Play a Christmas Song.”
I Found Tiny Childrens Shoes on My Late Husbands Grave Every Time I Visited, Their Secret Changed My Life
When Ellen visits Paul’s grave, seeking solace, she’s puzzled by the sight of children’s shoes resting on his headstone. At first, she dismisses it, assuming it’s a mistake by another grieving family. But as more shoes appear over time, the mystery deepens. Determined to understand, Ellen eventually catches the person responsible—and her life changes in an instant.
The first time I saw the shoes, I thought someone had made a mistake. A small pair of blue sneakers lay beside Paul’s headstone, neatly arranged as if left with intention. I figured a grieving parent had misplaced them. People do strange things when they mourn—I know I did. After Paul passed away in a sudden accident, I spent an entire week making jam that I knew I’d never eat. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was doing something, anything.
But those shoes were different. They didn’t belong, and I moved them aside before placing my flowers by Paul’s grave. It wasn’t until my next visit that I noticed something unusual: there were more shoes. This time, tiny red rain boots. Then, during another visit, I found dark green sneakers. It was too deliberate to be random. And it didn’t make sense. Paul and I never had children. I tried to convince myself it was a mistake—a grieving parent finding comfort in placing shoes at the wrong grave—but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
As the shoes multiplied with each visit, it felt like an invisible hand was pulling at the fragile threads of peace I had stitched together. Frustrated, I stopped visiting for a while, hoping that by staying away, the shoes would disappear. They didn’t. Instead, they kept coming. When I finally returned, six pairs of children’s shoes stood in a neat row beside Paul’s headstone, like a haunting tribute I couldn’t comprehend.
My sadness turned into anger. Who was doing this? Was this some cruel joke?
Then, one cold morning, I finally saw her. She was crouched beside the grave, gently placing a pair of small brown sandals next to the growing collection. Her long, dark hair swayed in the breeze as she carefully arranged them, her movements slow and purposeful.
“Hey! You!” I yelled, charging toward her, the flowers I had brought slipping from my grasp, forgotten.
She flinched but didn’t run. Instead, she stood slowly, dusting off her coat before turning to face me. That’s when my breath caught in my throat.
It was Maya—Paul’s old secretary. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since she abruptly left her job. She had always been warm and cheerful, but the woman standing before me now seemed burdened with a sorrow I recognized all too well.
“Maya?” I whispered, the disbelief heavy in my voice.
She nodded, her eyes red with unshed tears. Without a word, she reached into her coat pocket and handed me a worn photograph. My hands shook as I took it, my heart pounding in my chest.
It was a picture of Paul, smiling down at a baby boy cradled in his arms.
“His name is Oliver,” Maya said softly. “He’s Paul’s son.”
I stumbled backward, the world spinning as the weight of her words sank in. My husband, the man I thought I knew so well, had lived a secret life—with a child.
“You and Paul were…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Maya nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. But after Paul’s accident, Oliver started asking about his dad. I told him Paul was watching over him, and every time Oliver gets a new pair of shoes, he asks me to bring the old ones to his daddy.”
The shoes… they were a child’s way of staying connected to the father he had lost.
I wanted to scream, to demand answers from a man who could no longer give them. But standing there, staring at the shoes left behind by a little boy who would never know his father, I felt my anger start to melt into something else—something softer.
Maya looked at me with guilt etched on her face. “I’ll stop bringing the shoes. I never meant to upset you.”
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