1979

WYNTER MITCHELL-ROHRBAUGH

Very early in life, I realized my mother was different from other mothers. She is a hurricane of emotions: when she’s ecstatic, her laughter bellows, spilling into the rest of the house. It’s the same with her screams when she’s upset. My mother is complicated and misunderstood, whimsical and spirited. It simply depends on the day, sometimes the hour. Throughout it all, fashion is her excuse or her cure: a dangly earring, a gold bracelet, that perfect scarf to tie an outfit together. A pair of elegant eyeglasses gives her a reason to face the day.

Before I came along, the year was 1979, and my mother had become a plus-size model for a spell. She was modeling fur in a studio in San Francisco. Her perfect Afro frames her face, her lips that memorable red I’d come to know throughout childhood. My mom was the only black woman I knew who could rock this red—and she still wears it today. In this photo she looks grand, special, and regal. A woman on the go, to be seen, with places to be. Very married but still available to dream.

I’ve seen this photo many times, but it’s only now that I realize how close my mother was to having a different destiny. Becoming a mother changed all that.

I’m a new wife myself, and I recognize now how fast one’s dreams can evaporate if you commit to motherhood above all else, even above your passions. That’s what my mom did. It’s why I’m struggling with the idea of parenthood for myself. I don’t know how and when to suspend my ambition, and I’m not strong enough to think about it.

I’ve watched my mother’s career dwindle with every decade. I always wondered if the struggle between us stems from hope lost. She decided to put her dreams to the side to have me, and then my sister. The ultimate sacrifice.

I’ve accepted my mother as human; she was whole, even before she gave birth to me. I’ve committed to absorbing her dreams and hopes. I’ve taken on the struggle for her, to create a reality that she never thought possible. I want to dock my mother’s intensity at a safe port in a storm, in perfect weather. I want her to walk in fashion, in vogue, confidently, captivating the world with her grace, magnetism, and heart.

It took me thirty-nine years to realize she’s the love of my life and the one I have always been looking for. She built the ship that I sail.