About Me

About Me

Rising As I Am

My name is Wendi Kehn, and Hellbloom Haven isn’t just a business.
It is me, fully, honestly, and unapologetically as I am.

My life has never followed a straight line. Some days, it feels like it could be told in a hundred different stories. Like many who are neurodivergent and shaped by trauma, my early years were marked by misunderstanding, survival, and learning how to become who others needed me to be.

For years, I lived in patterns of people-pleasing, overgiving, and bending myself into something acceptable, anything to avoid abandonment, rejection, or being seen as too much.

Trauma taught me to stay alert. It sharpened my awareness, making me deeply attuned to the emotions of others and quick to anticipate what was never said out loud. By the time I was finishing high school, I was already a mother of two, trying to graduate while carrying responsibilities far beyond my years.

Life continued to unfold in ways that tested me. I have experienced childhood sexual abuse, domestic violence, homelessness, depression, a high-risk pregnancy at 32, divorce, multiple surgeries, cancer, and a back injury that ended an 18-year career.

There were many moments that could have broken me.

Each time, I chose to stand back up.

Finding My Truth

Healing did not arrive all at once. It came slowly, in layers, through faith, reflection, and a willingness to face what I had spent years surviving.

Along the way, I came to understand something that changed everything:

The greatest way to honor God is to honor who He created us to be.

Not who we were told to be.
Not who we became to survive.
But who we are underneath all of it.

That truth required something different from me. It asked for honesty. It asked for self-respect. It asked for the courage to stop apologizing for my light and to accept the fullness of who I am, my sensitivity, my depth, and my voice.

From Ashes to Hellbloom

Heartlight Haven was where this journey began. It gave me a place to find my voice, to create, and to begin processing everything I had carried for so long.

When it ended, the loss cut deeper than expected. I had built something from nothing, and in less than six months, it was gone. There was grief, confusion, and a moment where giving up felt like the easier option.

Getting back up was a choice.

Hellbloom Haven was born from that decision, not as a rebrand, but as a return.

The name came from a place I know well: the ashes.

I have stood in the wreckage of my life more than once. I understand what it means to lose, to rebuild, and to keep going anyway. There is a kind of strength that forms in those moments, a quiet knowing that something can still grow even when everything feels destroyed.

At first, the name felt bold, maybe even too bold.

Over time, it became clear that boldness was never the problem. Shrinking had been.

A Space for Healing, Not Perfection

Hellbloom Haven is not about fixing anyone. It is not about prescribing a path or defining what healing should look like.

This space exists for reflection, understanding, and reconnection.

Through trauma-informed education, somatic awareness, intuitive insight, and creative tools, the work here supports those learning to come back to themselves, at their own pace and in their own way.

It is a space for those untangling patterns they do not yet fully understand. For those navigating the aftermath of trauma. For those learning to listen inward again. For those standing in the in-between, somewhere between breaking and becoming.

Perfection has no place here.

Honesty does.
Depth does.
Space to breathe does.