This book was definitely not quite what I expected and I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing! I was expecting a book about growing up as a cheerleader and the impact that type of coming of age young adult life style would have on how one might see the world. Near the beginning, there was about a chapter (and a really well written one at that) that touched on this subject. I thought it was really neat that the author distanced herself from that cheerleader persona by writing as if the cheerleader was a thing, not a part of her. As I continued reading I realized that there would be other well written chapters but not really any more information about cheerleading. I re-read the description before writing this review just to be sure I hadn't missed something, but I think it is safe to say that this book was marketed as a coming of age memoir in essays written by a former cheerleader. Nothing about that description is wrong per se, but it also feel like that wasn't the most accurate description. Maybe: "Lesbian woman's coming of age during the HIV crisis" or "Former child sexual abuse survivor goes on to research medical treatments given to disadvantaged or uninformed patients" or even "Lesbian or nun, which path will she take?" might have been slightly more descriptive? If anything, this is not so much a criticism but fear of missed opportunity, this book was so much more than its description, I wonder who might pass it by without realizing what it really is about. I appreciate NetGalley and the publisher giving me the opportunity to read this book. I learned a lot about an era that is often passed over in our shared history - the AIDS pandemic and its lasting impact on a diverse and vulnerable population.

More memoirs should employ the linked-essays format that MB Caschetta deploys so skillfully in "A Cheerleader's Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment". Like a story collection in which each revelatory anecdote builds on those that have come before, these pieces skip over the chronological filler that can make traditional nonfiction narratives lose momentum. Instead we get a succession of pivotal moments in the life of a Gen-X lesbian who has lived through some of the formative events of the past 50 years: working for GMHC during the 1980s-90s AIDS crisis, joining the first cohort of gay marriages in Massachusetts, and (most unfortunately) contracting long COVID. The titular figure of the cheerleader first literally represents the false femme persona that her mother made her wear, then recurs as a metaphor for the way that women of her generation and Italian Catholic background were raised to support men's egos at their own expense. At the book's midpoint is a profound and touching essay about a silent retreat with nuns at the Genesis Center, where the feminist and Catholic threads of her life, often in tension, find a beautiful equilibrium.