Autobiography by Elmarie Heckroodt
It takes a lot of courage to share something this painful. I’m not here because I have all the answers — I’m here because I survived. I’m speaking from a place of deep trauma, and my voice deserves to be heard in the rawest, most honest way.
Some of you know what it’s like to be the child who wasn’t protected. Who was beaten, broken, and silenced by the very person meant to love you. Some of you carry grief so heavy — from murder, tragedy, or sudden loss — that time hasn’t healed a damn thing. You’ve buried someone you loved so much that it felt like your soul died too.
Some of you know the pain of being rejected for who you are — your sexuality, your truth. You’ve faced hate, silence, shame, maybe even your own reflection. And some of you are fighting a daily battle with depression — smiling on the outside while you’re slowly fading inside. And yet, you get up every day and keep going. That, too, is strength. That is courage in motion.
To all of you — I see you. I am you. And your pain is real. Your voice matters.
Author: Elmarie Heckroodt
Childhood abuse, whether physical, emotional, mental, or verbal, together with discovering the infidelity of a parent, causes extreme hurt for more than one person.
Grown-ups and children suffer deep and extreme hurt, and some have to face and deal with the emotional scars for the rest of their lives. In my blog, I will explain my Spiritual struggle regarding my sexual orientation and my love for God.
Living behind bars for murder and a mother’s unconditional love. Dealing with her death as a result of liver cancer and how to live and make peace with depression, the so-called “Black Dog”.
I Have Experienced Life…
“There Is No Greater Agony Than Bearing An Untold Story Inside You.” – Maya Angelou
A Sneak Peek Of What's To Come
Child Abuse
My father wasn’t just abusive — he was deliberate, controlled, and terrifyingly sober. His rage was a weapon, his words venom. One second calm, the next pure violence. I learned early: his house was never safe.
Pulling The Trigger
One gunshot changed everything. In an instant, Lizette was gone, and I was left frozen, staring at her lifeless body. My world shattered, and nothing would ever be the same.
Behind Bars
Cramped, chaotic, and relentless—thirty-two women in a cell built for twenty. The stench, the noise, the fear—it swallowed me whole. Every moment, I wondered: how will I survive this?
A Boy Born Into A Lesbian Relationship
I lost you when you were just two years old. Decades later, the pain remains—love and protectiveness that time can’t erase, and a longing that never fades.
Court Hearing And Sentence
The courtroom smelled of fear and finality. My fate rested in the hands that knew my name, but not my soul. When the sentence was spoken, I felt my body there — but the woman I was… disappeared.
The Cell That Heard My Story
We sat in that tiny cell — my lawyer, calm and steady; me, unraveling. I told him my story, from the little girl who was hurt to the woman who pulled the trigger. He didn’t see a criminal. He saw me.
30 Days In A Psychiatric Hospital
The court called it evaluation. I called it captivity. Thirty days behind locked doors — where silence screamed louder than the patients. Every stare felt like a scalpel searching for my sanity.
The Woman Who Refused to Quit
Even when the world turned away, she stayed. Every tear, every failure, every broken piece of me — she refused to let me fall. Her love was the glue that held my life together.