XO, Obscura - September 2025
“Just remember, honey. Just do your best.”
Every day before my dad left for work, he would put both his hands on my shoulders and tell me the same thing, without fail. Yesenia, just do your best. I must have been in middle school the first time I felt distinct annoyance at his daily reminder. GOD, dad. I will!!! Chill!
I was always a high achiever. I say it’s a combo of being the eldest daughter, with a Mexican mother with a father in the Navy. The pressure to be golden and reach as high as possible has always been ever-present, closer to me than the clothes on my skin. I’d also have to credit a religious upbringing for the obsession with impact and focus on the long-term. (While it’s up for debate what some Christians do well, they do indoctrinate from a young age very, very well).
While I spend less time worrying about the salvation of people’s souls these days, I can’t escape the need to build something of myself that brings pride to my family and friends, and the kids that may come after me.
My grandparents immigrated to this country when they were in their early 20’s. The story goes that my grandfather played the world’s crummiest guitar on the drive over the border and it took my grandmother some time to be charmed by him. Fifty six years later, they’re still together and my grandfather plays much better guitar. My mom and my tia both graduated from high school, a feat that wasn’t available to my grandparents – they had to drop out of middle school to work and help to keep their families afloat in Mexico. I was a first-generation college student and my little sister graduated with her BS and is now in pursuit of a Ph.D. And everyday in my gut I feel the weight of such significance. I feel a core piece of my soul, the importance of the need to succeed, to not squander my life and opportunity when so very much was sacrificed for me.
Other people from immigrant families I know, we hold similar feelings. The need to be the prize our parents and grandparents can hold and show off. Ultimately, to be worth all they gave. I think if I told my family these big feelings, they would be appalled. Because I don’t think that there are any specific bounds on what my family wants or needs me to achieve in this life – besides being happy. Seeing our family grow and live the life we want, I think that’s what makes them happiest. This pressure to make something of myself to honor their legacy might have been self-imposed. But it comes from deep, unrelenting respect and adoration for who I’ve come from. I feel satisfied thinking about publishing my future books with my mother’s maiden name hyphenated just to put Piñon into the world.
“I’m looking up at the moon…and I’m dreaming.”
This line from the movie Selena always makes me tear up. Selena Quintanilla, fiercely talented and just beginning her career with her siblings, sits on the roof of their childhood home and shares with her sister all that she’s dreaming of for her life after her first performance. She would live on to win a Grammy in 1994 for best Mexican American Album, start her own clothing line, demand space in a male-dominated field, and revolutionize the latino musical sphere. Selena Quintanilla never got the chance to grow old or have children. But her legacy lives on and on in Latinos around the world. Even in people like me, who never saw a glimpse of her while she was alive. Watching the movie about her life hundreds of times growing up, I’ve stayed inspired and reminded of all that we could be in our lives. I’m also reminded of the importance of Latinos in creative spaces, especially in this timeline we’re living in within the United States.
As I look forward to all that I know Obscura will grow to be, I am filled with such eagerness. I’m so proud of what we’ve done in the past year. We’ve had coverage at Copenhagen, Paris, and New York Fashion Week. We’ve put out monthly editorials, steeped in meaning to tell a necessary story. We have grown in friends, followers and in our team this past year. We have stayed true to ourselves and our brand. I’m filled with gratitude to be working alongside such a wonderful writing team, various editorial teams, and such a creative powerhouse in Alexia Hill. Obscura is just getting started, and we’re putting the correct cards down to keep our legacy safe and in growth.
So what does legacy mean to me?
It means everything. I ponder it, obsessed over it, am increasingly intimidated by it. I hope to be an author, continue growing into a badass Editor in Chief, a business woman, a designer, a graduate student, a mediocre plant mom, and more. I don’t think I’ve always played my cards right. There have been many mistakes, and moves that I shouldn’t have made. But I am better for the journey, and I don’t think it can stop me from winning the game.
XO,
Obscura
Yesenia Follingstad, Editor in Chief
Photos by Kylen Lunn