This Isn’t Just a Business — It’s My Survival Story.

I didn’t name my business Bad Blood because it sounds cool.
I named it because that’s what I was born into.
I was raised in a house where love was conditional, pain was normal, and silence was expected.
Where the people who were supposed to protect me — my family — became the very ones I had to protect myself from.
That kind of damage doesn’t just go away. It follows you.

But the part that still cuts the deepest?
It didn’t stop when I became an adult.
I gave them chance after chance, thinking maybe this time they’d see me, hear me, stand beside me.
But instead, they turned their backs on me again.
They chose control, denial, and ego over love.
And when I needed them most — they weren’t there.

So now, it’s just me. Without them
Building something from the ashes of everything they tried to burn down.

Bad Blood Café & Bakery isn’t just a name — it’s a declaration. A rebellion
It’s for the ones who were betrayed by the people who were supposed to be their home.
It’s for the ones who never got closure, only silence.
It’s for anyone who had to become their own parent, their own support system, their own safety net.

I rushed to get my business license because I was done waiting —
For apologies. For help. For permission to take up space.

This place is mine. And if you’ve been through hell and came out still standing, it can be yours too.

Here, we turn pain into pastries.
We frost our rage and serve it warm.
We laugh, we cry, we eat cookies that call out abusers by name.
And we make healing taste like something you actually want to come back for.

So if you’ve ever felt abandoned, overlooked, unloved — this place is for you.
You’re not crazy. You’re not alone.
And you sure as hell don’t need their approval to live a life you’re proud of.

Come visit. Come vent.
Come eat something that finally understands you.

We’ve got coffee, carbs, and the kind of comfort your family never gave you.
Welcome to Bad Blood!