Veronica Hanson

When I see the LA wildfires, I remember all the times I thought staying put was the only choice. But it’s not. You don’t have to hunker down in a system that doesn’t care about your well-being. You can choose to leave. We did.

The hardest part of being a mom isn’t the daily chaos—it’s trying to create stability in an unstable world. Fires, floods, and politics that make you question if the system will ever care about your family. I promise: there’s another way.

If you’ve ever taped up your windows to keep wildfire smoke out, sent your kids to school in masks, or had to explain yet another active shooter drill, you’ve probably wondered: “Is this what safety is supposed to feel like?” It’s not. It’s really not.

They say this as if staying and suffering is some kind of moral victory. But here’s the truth: You don’t owe your life to a fight that shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

I used to think staying and fighting for change was the only option. Then one wildfire too many made me realize: I wasn’t protecting my kids—I was exposing them. Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is walk away. #leaveamerica #bluecrew

Moms carry the weight of the world. Fires, shootings, toxic air, failing schools—you’re expected to manage it all while protecting your kids. But what if the world didn’t have to feel this heavy? What if there was a different way?

Watching the LA fires, I can’t help but think about the moms out there doing everything to keep their kids safe—taping windows, buying masks, trying to explain why the air smells like smoke. It doesn’t have to be this way. You and your kids deserve better.

Unhappy people don’t lead happy lives, and they certainly don’t create happy societies. If someone’s leadership is rooted in anger and hatred, how could their path lead to anything but more of the same?

Here’s the question I keep coming back to: Why follow someone who is so clearly unhappy? Anger, blame, hatred—those are the traits of someone who has no peace in their life. Why not look to people who exude calm, kindness, and joy instead?

How do you reconcile following a leader who thrives on division when your faith calls you to love your neighbor? It’s not just a contradiction—it’s a betrayal of the very values so many claim to hold sacred. {not rhetorical}

Authoritarian leaders thrive on anger, blame, and hatred to rally their base. What blows my mind is that so many religious people—whose faiths preach love, peace, and forgiveness—are the ones falling for these tactics.

Choosing to stay in a place that repeatedly puts your health and safety at risk isn’t resilience—it’s conditioning. My family broke free of that mindset, and it’s the best decision we ever made. You can too.

The LA wildfires aren’t just about fires—they’re about a system that tells you to stay, endure, and pretend everything is fine. Sometimes, the answer isn’t rebuilding or hunkering down. Sometimes, it’s leaving. And that’s okay.

Over 4 years abroad, my family has found peace we didn’t know was possible in the U.S. Affordable housing and healthcare. No more shooter drills. The constant need to fight for rights has disappeared. It’s not perfect—but it’s calm. And we won’t go back to the chaos of America.

The U.S. trains you to endure: toxic air, school drills, unaffordable healthcare, climate disasters. It’s a cycle of gaslighting that tells you there’s no escape. But here’s the truth: you don’t have to live like this. You can leave.

Breathable air shouldn’t be a luxury for those with the means to evacuate. No one should have to mask their kids just to survive another day of smoke, drills, or stress. Sometimes the boldest choice is to zoom out and say, “I’m done.”

When I see the LA wildfires, I remember all the times I thought staying put was the only choice. But it’s not. You don’t have to hunker down in a system that doesn’t care about your well-being. You can choose to leave. We did.

Two months after evacuating the 2020 Oregon wildfires, we lived in the Dominican Republic. Not years. Not a long-drawn-out plan. We decided & we left. 4.5 years later, we’ve lived in 3 different countries & we’ll never go back to America. My nervous system has never been calmer.

It was in a Tucson hotel that my husband and I made the decision that changed everything: we were done. No more hunkering down. No more toxic air. No more active shooter drills. No more national gaslighting. We weren’t going to stay and endure anymore.

September of the COVID year, under voluntary evacuation orders, something in me snapped. We left our house in Oregon and drove to my mother-in-law’s county for ‘clean air.’ Except the smoke followed us. The unbreathable air wasn’t going to stop.