Wilhelmina Holmgren (1840 - 1876) was also an artist and studied at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts, like Carl Larsson. Carl Larsson's first major portrait, completed in 1876, depicts the Wilhelmina standing in walking attire, adorned with a plumed hat, parasol, and gloves in hand. The portrait was one of his most ambitious works during his studies and received praise from the Royal Academy when he submitted it in his final study year in 1877. His relationship with the older "Mina" was significant for Carl Larsson's personal development. She was his first life companion, and the couple had two children who both tragically died at a young age. Wilhelmina died in 1877 during the birth of their second child.

In his autobiography "JAG", Carl Larsson describes their close relationship and tragic fate (pp. 98–99):

"Yes, there [in a small house on the way to Nacka] a relationship also began with one of the female students who had made her way there. It is more than embarrassing for me to touch upon this... Let it suffice to admit here that without this self-sacrificing woman, I would probably have perished in some way. She sustained my belief in myself; she tried to give me a purer and higher understanding of my calling. Blessed be her memory! She died giving life to our second child. The first had already died.

Shortly thereafter, when I travelled to Paris, I entrusted the child to my mother. Then I received a letter from her that the little one was seriously ill, and 'if the child did not die, it would not be able to live a full life.' Never has anyone more intensely, fervently, tearfully, wrung their hands before God's feet... I was answered: the little life was extinguished.

This woman's love was both maternal and that of a lover. She was older than me and probably did not count on the relationship lasting. She counted right, even if it ended in a way neither of us had envisioned..."

Shortly after Wilhelmina's passing, Carl wrote to his friend, the artist Mauritz Lindström, on April 4, 1877:

"My dear Mauritz!

Without any hope of a reply, I still intend to write a few lines born out of a kind of need to share my troubles with you and express my joy over your successes, which have been officially confirmed by your appointment as agrée of the Academy, to which I heartily congratulate you!!! –

When I mention, to speak of my troubles, that Mina Holmgren is dead, I know it will painfully affect you, as on the few occasions we three were together you could not help but notice that she was a woman one does not meet every day and who saved me from degenerating...

Her memory will always be sacred to me and I have no doubt that this proud figure will constantly stand vividly before my eyes, ensuring that my artistry will be worthy and true. She and you are the only people who have loved me, believed in me – she and you are the people dearest to me; now it is only you again. […] On the 15th of April, I travel to Paris and will then pursue the road to become an artist or perish; 'all or nothing' will be my motto. As you see, despite all sorrows, I remain naive, but I console myself with the words of a great German philosopher that 'Naivety is the special privilege of genius'…"