Fleeing the LA Wildfires with My Newborn

Hey there,

Life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them. I never thought I’d write this kind of story, let alone live it. But here I am, still delirious, running on fumes, and hanging by a mental health thread after escaping the LA wildfires with my newborn daughter.

When we evacuated, we left with nothing—just the clothes on our backs and my baby in my arms. I grabbed her, not even thinking to pack a bag or take a single thing. The fires didn’t leave us time to think, just to act. Driving through the smokey streets, I was terrified. Everything I’d worked so hard to build was suddenly in limbo.

Losing my home and everything in it was never on my life bingo card. It’s a surreal kind of grief, realizing that all your "things" are gone in an instant. Some things that can be replaced but others that cannot: my father’s signature, my journals, poetry, press passes, the glass broken on my wedding day, years of keepsakes and mementos that told the story of who I am, all I’ve built.

But here’s the thing: this experience has forced me to face something I’ve been avoiding for years. I’ve always had a deep, complicated relationship with the idea of “home.” I used to think a nicer house, a better space, or more stability would fix that ache. But this fire burned right through those illusions.

If I’m learning anything through this horror, it’s that the idea of home was never going to be solved by a bigger house or nicer stuff. The gaping wound—the one that made me crave stability so desperately—was something I’d have to face head-on. It hurts like hell, but maybe, just maybe, Rumi was right: the wound is the place the light enters you.

For now, I’m trying to focus on finding the light, the gratitude. Gratitude that my daughter and I are safe, that we’ve been met with so much kindness, and that I’m being forced to rebuild not just a home, but something deeper within myself.

To everyone else in my hometown who is going through this, I see you. I feel your heartbreak. And I promise we will get through this together, one step at a time.

With love and hope,
Nicole

P.S. I’m sharing resources and tips I’ve found helpful for navigating insurance claims and recovery on my social channels. Let’s rebuild together. ❤️