It happens all the time. People see a black woman on the cover of a magazine, leading a board meeting, or – gasp! – in the White House, and they automatically assume that she’s all-powerful and could sustain any obstacle thrown her way.

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Because of the space she occupies and the overbearing trope of a “strong black woman”, it may seem like she wears a cloak of invincibility, but as Michelle Obama has so beautifully explained to Oprah Winfrey in an interview with Elle magazine about her new book Becoming, that shield could be torn apart just as easily as any other woman’s. It may sound like a very obvious statement, but this is a radical thing to hear from a black woman (or really any woman) in 2018 when our wonderful efforts to promote “black girl magic” and “girl power” have often silenced our need to express hurt and vulnerability.

“I feel vulnerable all the time,” Obama told Winfrey. Those six words felt like giant boulders being removed from my shoulders as I read this interview. It’s not because I particularly feel vulnerable all the time (I also wasn’t the only ever black first lady of the United States). It is because it helps open up a necessary conversation about what it means to feel less confident than maybe you should, while having to look like the pillar of strength. It is a dichotomy that many women, but in particular black women, embody on a regular basis – and Obama just casually validated that that’s OK to say.

We’re not alone in our feelings, and it is past time that we stop feeling bad about, well, feeling bad sometimes.

In fact, Becoming, and consequentially the entire interview with Winfrey, is about taking off the mask that the public adorned her with from the moment she and husband/former president Barack Obama stepped through the gigantic columns of the White House. Instantly, she became a seemingly impenetrable figure who was – and remains – the epitome of womanhood. Now, she’s cracked that mask open to reveal a woman who is just as strong yet, like all of us, has to navigate her own insecurities in a healthy, honest way not only for herself but for those who look up to her. Because we’re not alone in our feelings, and it is past time that we stop feeling bad about, well, feeling bad sometimes.

“I don’t want young people to look at me here and now and think, Well, she never had it rough. She never had challenges, she never had fears,” she told Winfrey. Because of course that’s not true. It’s not true for any woman. And that’s part of what being a role model, a term she’s just recently accepted about herself, is all about – a so-called powerful person who embodies the same imperfect image of another so that they can realize that they too can get to where she is one day.

Call it a weakness – a word too often thrown around when a black woman dares to speak openly about her uncertainties – but in an attempt to highlight her own, Obama has shown what a strong black woman actually looks like. She’s helping to normalize this image so that we no longer feel the need to hide it, even from our romantic partners – for her, husband Barack Obama – because that too can affect our relationships. For example, Michelle Obama admitted that she and Barack Obama went so far as to enlist the help of a professional in couple’s therapy.

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That’s a huge revelation for someone in Michelle Obama’s position because, I know from my own family at least, resorting to third-party assistance is often frowned upon in the black community (that includes nannies and mental health therapists as well). But Obama’s story helps remove the stigma around that. Even when it comes to speaking openly about her miscarriage – something that’s so common yet underdiscussed – she’s bringing it to the forefront so that we don’t feel any shame about it.

“I felt lost and alone, and like I failed because I didn’t know how common miscarriages were, because we don’t talk about them,” Obama shared with Winfrey. “We sit in our own pain, thinking that somehow we’re broken.” Simply identifying a feeling that is outside the overwhelming image of vitality aloud is an act of defiance in its own way, a rebellion against the confines of womanhood in which we’ve been placed. Obama has embraced that her journey has come with some bumps in the road and that her image is not as idyllic as it may seem – and we should be unafraid to do the same with our own stories and imperfections.