Los Angeles is Burning—and so is my heart

Fire, fire, everywhere...

Jan 11, 2025

yellow fire digital wallpaper — Photo by Guido Jansen on Unsplash

A Quick Intro

Hi, I’m Kimberly Anne an expat, living on a budget in Europe. If you don’t know my background: I relocated alone from San Francisco to Portugal in September of 2022, sight unseen and without a built-in support system. Before that, I spent a year traveling solo across the U.S., living in a van. And I’m a published indie author with over 30 fiction novels.

Los Angeles

This article breaks from our regular programming to address the fires (still raging as of Jan 11th, 2025) in Los Angeles.

The reason I’m even writing this article is because Los Angeles is my hometown.

I was born and raised there and while I left at 18 and never moved back to live there again, though I do visit often, it’s still a big part of me. I’ve not hidden the fact that I have a love/hate, complicated relationship with Los Angeles.

And from what I’ve heard from other people, it’s not uncommon to have a love/hate relationship with where we were born and raised.

HOWEVER, this does not mean that the loss of two towns so far, the size of over 20,000 football stadiums of land (many homes included), forests, Malibu, Pacific Palisades, Altadena, shopping centers, schools, businesses and more has not absolutely gutted me.

And it’s gutted me in a way I never saw coming. I’m not a crier but I haven’t stopped.

My entire family still lives in Los Angeles, as do many friends, mostly high school friends, but also friends from later in life.

Everyone I’ve spoken to is safe and that’s what matters most.

But my 91 year old father’s house burned down. My 86 year old mother was evacuated from hers. The house I grew up going to most weekends of my life, my grandfather’s house, is gone. I cannot begin to wrap my head around the devastation and loss.

And while this is absolutely not about me, in a way, it’s still collective.

We can mourn this loss together. We can all be sad and heartbroken. We should be!

This won’t be an isolated incident and as my partner so eloquently pointed out, “as humans, we think we’re in charge, but mother nature is the only one who truly is.”

When I watched videos on TikTok of the places I grew up in, erased from the earth, sobbing I shouldn’t have been surprised at all the hate and vitriolic comments and I wasn’t; but they sickened me.

What kind of world are we living in where people delight in the pain and suffering of others? Where strangers rejoice at such massive devastation? Where some actively cause it?

The Rich

I was just speaking to a Portuguese friend about the LA fires this morning and how the devastation there is being perceived here and in parts of Europe. She said many people (not her, she’s very empathetic) are saying that it doesn’t matter because the rich all have multiple houses and who cares, they’ll be fine. This was painful to hear.

Most importantly, it’s a gross fallacy. The percentage of poor people who lost their homes FAR outweighs the percentage of the “rich” people who lost their homes. Many (poorer) people had these homes in their families for generations and it was all they had. They couldn’t afford to move and some older folks couldn’t even imagine leaving and they died inside their burning homes; one person was still lying in their bed.

A trailer park was one of the areas in the Palisades fire that was gutted. The rich don’t live in trailer parks. And now the people who lived in those vehicles are homeless without the means to stay in a hotel or recover financially.

Secondly: not all rich people have second homes and not all rich people are young and healthy. My father is one of those people. He’s rich, but he’s also 91 years old with advanced dementia. My father and I haven’t spoken in ten years. The reasons are complicated but they boil down to the fact that his new family wanted all his money and alienated him from his first family to steal it—and they were successful. Money makes people do some really sick things. But that doesn’t mean that I still don’t love my father because I do. And while he had his part in the alienation, and he was never a saint, I don’t wish him ill. I am broken-hearted that he is suffering, that he lost his house and his mind.

This brings me to the third thing I need to talk about: why do we hate the rich and wish them harm? I’m guilty of this too, I have struggled for my entire life, always working at least two (and now three) jobs just to make ends meet. And I’ve been resentful of people who don’t have to do this. But they’re still people, just like you and me with feelings and memories and love and loss. Why waste our time being angry or envious or resentful? One friend reminded me last night, that many wealthy people are unhappy (I’ve seen this first hand). Some have no life purpose and lead superficial lives. She said that many of us who are not rich monetarily are “richer” in other ways. Maybe this is true. Regardless, I still have immense compassion for everyone who is suffering; both the rich and the poor.

Unexpected

Here are a few things that have happened from this tragedy so far, that I never expected:

It’s brought me closer to my family (dad not included).
It brought a very kind and loving family member I hadn’t spoken to in many years back into my life.
It’s united other family members who hadn’t spoken in years.
It’s made me realize how precious the simpler things in life are, things I’ve taken for granted like love, respect, nature, shelter, food, water…
It’s made me double down on the belief that making memories is more important that collecting “stuff”.
It’s made me realize I never “hated” Los Angeles, not the place itself. I hated things about it, some of the values and plasticity, the horrible division between the “haves and have-nots”. But now I have a newfound appreciation for the beauty of the city, especially for what was lost. And I have greater compassion for everyone who’s been affected by this horrible tragedy, no matter their financial standing.

I don’t know if any of this will mean anything to you but I needed to say it and if you’re reading this, thank you for doing so.

I still have no regrets about leaving the US. One of the reasons I had to leave California was because of the fires. There were several massive fires close to me when I lived there. I remember the sky being orange, the sun being orange. I remember waking up on several occasions to my car covered in ash. There were weeks when I had to sleep with a respirator and wear masks all day. There was a week each year when the electric company (which was the cause of many of the fires) turned off our electricity and we had no lights, no heat, nothing but a camp stove to cook on. I knew that with climate change, the fires would continue, and they have—all over.

There was a massive fire here in Northern Portugal just a few months ago but I was able to drive to Spain to escape. In California there was nowhere I could go to escape the thick, toxic smoke.

My heart breaks for the inhabitants of Los Angeles and I’m learning, every day, not to overlook all that I do have.

white dome building near green trees during daytime — The Griffith Observatory: Photo by Venti Views on Unsplash

In the face of such devastating loss, I’ve found myself reflecting on the fragility of life, the power of nature, and the importance of compassion—for ourselves, for others, and for all the places we call home. Los Angeles, with all its beauty and flaws, has shaped who I am in ways I’m still uncovering. The fires have destroyed so much, but they’ve also reminded me of what truly matters: the people we love, the memories we hold, and the connections we share.

As we mourn what’s been lost, I hope we can all take a moment to appreciate what we still have and to extend kindness wherever we can. Whether rich or poor, stranger or friend, we are all human, and we’re all vulnerable to forces far beyond our control.

Let’s use this tragedy not to divide or blame, but to come together, to rebuild, and to support one another in meaningful ways.

Thank you for reading, for holding space for my words, and for caring about a city that’s hurting deeply. Let this be a reminder to cherish what we have—and to take nothing for granted.

If you’re interested in my “Why I Left the US and Won’t Ever Return” Series, please check out..

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