College (or rather: Collage)

Words by Rosie Jane Johnston

The word “collage” feels more appropriate—cutting and pasting pieces of our family into a new shape, hoping the glue holds.

We packed approximately 10,000 bags. I am not exaggerating. By the time we were done, it looked like we were moving Leila into a five-bedroom house, not a single dorm room in the middle of Manhattan. And that dorm? Hotter than the actual center of the earth. Forget hot yoga—if you ever want to sweat out your sins, just carry a mattress topper up six flights of stairs in late August.

Her roommate is divine, truly, but we didn’t have anyone to help build her furniture. Which meant that Chad and I, in our infinite wisdom and middle-aged backs, basically moved in two college freshmen that day. Somewhere between the IKEA hex key and the broken nail, I thought, this is parenting in its purest form. Doing the work. Lugging the boxes. Making sure everyone has a lamp.

Meanwhile, my younger daughter, Matilda, was going through her own melodrama: sobbing about her sister leaving one minute and then declaring “I hate you and I’m glad you’re not coming home!” the next. Tears and venom in equal measure. Sisterhood distilled.

Here’s the thing: the chaos, the cross-country move, the sweat, the tears—I was prepared for that. I didn’t go to college myself, but I did move to London alone at 19. Aussies are born travelers.  It’s in our DNA. You leave, you stretch, you grow. And as overprotective and control-freak as I can be, I wanted this for Leila. I wanted her to start her life, to see the world outside our Los Angeles bubble.

What I was not prepared for was my husband’s emotional breakdown. Chad is permanently sarcastic, the funniest and most charming man in every room, always ready with the quip. But even that couldn’t hide his breaking heart. He still can’t talk about drop-off without his eyes welling up. And honestly, watching him crumble has been almost harder than watching Leila leave. Because Leila—she’s strong, tough, so smart (just like her mother). She’s going to be fine. But Chad’s quiet devastation was the part I never saw coming.

Then came the other surprise gut-punch: my own age. I’m 49. And sending a child to college made that number zoom in like it was printed in neon. I have an adult child. Holy shit. I am, what, ten years away from potentially being a grandma? I still feel 27 in my head (until I try to carry 10,000 bags up six flights of stairs).

So yes, the bed got made. The fairy lights went up. The cinderblock room softened into something almost warm. We hugged her too many times, then once more for good measure. We left her standing in the lobby, brave and ready, while I tried to keep my face from cracking into a puddle.

And then it was quiet. Our family minus one. The shape is different now. The air moves differently. It’s both heartbreaking and exactly as it should be.

Launching your kid into the world isn’t just about them. It’s also about you. About your marriage, your younger kids, your own reflection in the mirror. It’s realizing that time folds. One second you’re cutting grapes in quarters, the next you’re dropping your child off at college and wondering when you got old enough to have an adult.

She’s thriving. She’s finding her way. And so are we. Just a little sweatier, a little older, and — somehow — a little more tender than we expected.

Rosie Jane Johnston is the founder and CEO of by/rosie jane. A former celebrity makeup artist, born and raised in Sydney, Australia, Now a mom of three and an easy living enthusiast, Rosie draws on a deep understanding of how ingredients and fragrance can affect our mood and sense of well-being.  Rosie launched the brand in 2010 as a passion project from her kitchen in Los Angeles. Since then, it’s grown into a multi-million dollar business—stocked in over 400 Sephora stores and beloved for its effortless, feel-good formulas, all still personally developed by Rosie herself. Every product is a reflection of her simple philosophy: Smell Good. Feel Good. Do Good.