If multiple sclerosis afflicted Michelle Obama’s father, he never discussed it. He seldom showed it, either. Years passed where he would rise in the mornings, head to work and come back home, smiling the whole time. Though one could easily dismiss him as a man in denial of the condition that would soon consume his body, Obama claims this story demonstrates something more profound, something that feels more urgent with every passing day: the idea of lifting your head up, taking whatever life hurls your way and carrying on.

Such a theme is explored by the former first lady in her third book, “The Light We Carry,” which was released on Nov. 15. The book employs deeply personal anecdotes and signature humor to guide readers through Obama’s “toolkit” of strategies used to remain hopeful in the increasingly turbulent state of our nation and world.

This is a book that, from the title and chapter names, could be reduced to a trite, derivative self-help work. (After all, titles like “Decoding Fear,” “Starting Kind” and “Going High” surely feel like they could be paired with the overused refrains about the importance of self-assurance and perseverance, do they not?) However, what sets this book apart from most others is the authenticity and convincing relatability of its narrator.

Through brutal honesty and internal reflections, whether they be about the reaction to her brilliant memoir “Becoming” or her relationship with her husband, Obama reminds readers that she, like all of us, has experienced joy, sorrow and anxiety in their most stripped-down forms. She creates a uniquely trusting and vulnerable relationship with her reader, where we feel seen and empowered by her every mention of overcoming her worries, failures and troubled states of mind.

This relationship is on display when she speaks directly to the young people reading her book. “Please remember to be patient with yourselves,” she tells us. “You are at the beginning of a long and interesting journey, one that will not always feel comfortable.” How does she get it so well? She so beautifully and thoroughly seems to understand the youth experience, taking astute notice of our imperfections and troubles. Yet, she manages to offer hope and inspiration, too, reminding us that life is not one or two defining moments, but rather a journey of ups, downs and everything in between.

What is, perhaps, just as striking about this book is its own self-awareness. As Obama points out several times throughout the book, “The Light We Carry” was written after various moments in recent history that tested the country’s strength and soul, such as the devastating COVID-19 pandemic, the Jan. 6 storming of the Capitol, the racial reckoning prompted by the killing of George Floyd and the continued hate crimes perpetrated against the Asian-American and LGBTQ+ communities.

Yet, as daunting as it is to confront reality, Obama does not insulate herself from these events, instead addressing each (and their concrete implications) head-on. She beautifully and captivatingly details how, just like everyone else, she is sickened, enraged and truly saddened by what she has seen. She recognizes and has lived through the metaphorical thunderstorms that have rained on our parades.

For all of the book’s awareness and transparency, its crown jewels are the stories woven throughout. Of all of them, there is one that, to me, is a notch above the rest. It is the story of Tyne, a young woman working in publishing who, upon reading “Becoming,” was struck by the blowback that Obama received in 2009 after unintentionally placing her arm on Queen Elizabeth II’s shoulder. As Obama described, the page stuck with Tyne because she, a woman of color in a predominantly white field, could observe that the incident was about more than the placement of Obama’s arm; it was about confronting the perniciousness of alienation and intolerance.

This story, in a way, is applicable to all of us, regardless of our identities. We have all felt like strangers in certain environments, and we have all experienced our share of skeptics and detractors. Here, Obama gives a face and name to that feeling and in doing so offers our society a chance to do better. To be more inclusive and welcoming. To open our arms and hearts, like we have long sought to do but never fully achieved.

Like “Becoming,” which was published in 2018, Obama uses “The Light We Carry” as a space for an open dialogue: a place where honesty, no matter how painful or uncomfortable, and hope outshine all else. She traverses through the disheartening, the frightening and the complex to speak directly to her readers, reminding us that, despite the darkness that seemingly encompasses us with each passing day, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. All we have to do is have hope. All we have to do is carry on.