This week, I welcome Jori Nunes, author of Chocolate Flowers and amazing beyond survivor. Jori's story is unlike any other. It is a no holds barred
story of abuse, falling down, and then getting back up and fighting for one’s
self and the one’s we love. I know you will be touched and inspired!
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My name is Jori Nunes, I live in Modesto and was born in
San Francisco in 1968. After writing the book, Chocolate Flowers, I became aware
of the fact that I was abused although I never thought I was as a child, it was
just the way things were. My parents were mentally ill so they had their
excuse. I don’t remember when it all started with my real father but I often
think of the things he put my mother and I through like the ‘Tickle torture’
and forcing her to act sexually to me when she would give me a bath. My father
was an alcoholic and would love to buy everyone in the bar drinks leaving us
without
money to buy food so he would take me out to panhandle and dumpster
dive so we would have things and be able to eat. I have never had any of the
traditional signs that I read in other people's books but I have always felt
lonely and have twitches when I see, hear or talk about my past.
As a child, I was never forced to go to school so if I heard
my sister getting up and ready I would sometimes go too but my grades were barely passable and
it wasn’t until the third grade that it was discovered I couldn’t read and was
put into special ed classes. I don’t blame teachers because I didn’t tell them
anything was wrong, it was just how things were. I do remember a teacher asking
me about my lack of cleanliness and poor hygiene. She asked if I was being hit
and yelled at in my home and my answer was always, "No, not at all." No one ever
questioned me any further and I continued going to school when I felt like it.
I don’t remember doing homework or how I passed classes when I failed all my tests
but somehow I floated by like an empty shell.
Unlike most abused children, I was never scared at night
because my step father would be home and I knew when he was home, I was safe.
Mother was diagnosed with multiple personality disorder and admitted to having
a ‘dark’ personality but would never talk about it. I knew that personality
well, the witch, when she would actually put on a plastic Halloween mask and
torture me in my room. My mother was my molester. That may shock people but to
me it was just the way mother was. She had experienced worse; she would remind me and
tell me the stories of her abusive mother and all the men that were in her life
whom would sexually abuse her while her mother watched and would approve
because they would pay her so she (my grandmother) could afford new furniture.
My mother hated her, I hated her too so when she died on Halloween we laughed
and sang ‘The wicked witch has died’ laughing.
My sister was treated completely different. Mother adored
her and called her the ‘Gorgeous’ one. Mother constantly took photos of her and
ignored my little brother and I. My sister was also abused sexually but that’s
her story to tell, but I can tell you that mother forced her to wear bikini’s
and sexy clothing, my sister knew to keep her mouth shut but learned to laugh
at things as a nervous jester and had a sense of humor that not too many people
understood. Mother groomed dogs and spent every dime on my sisters modeling
career.
I was forced out of our home at the age of 14 because I
tried to kill my mother. My mother had neglected me and only found interest in
my sexuality allowing me to become sexual with men at an early age and asking
me for details if she wasn’t included. I never knew it was wrong because I was
doing it since I can remember with my real father. But when mother would force
me to kill kittens and tell me stories of the hospice patients that she would
be allowed to kill, things just got to be too much for me and one day I just
had too much and threw her on the floor attempting to kill her.
When I found out I was pregnant, I was excited to have a
son. I wouldn’t have to worry about a boy being sexually abused. My son's father
was tragically killed in a car accident and never met our son, so I thought it
was a great idea to have a male babysitter who could be a father figure to my
son.
When my son told me that this man I trusted in my home with
him had been making him suck his penis, I was so angry at my son for lying that
I took away his action figures and told him that ‘Tim’ would never do that. I
trusted him, he helps mommy and goes to our church. A month or so passed and my
son was screaming from the bathroom. He couldn’t urinate, so I rushed him to the
E.R. to be told he had a STD. He was six.
It took me twenty years to write the story, Chocolate
Flowers. I interviewed pedophiles from Megan’s law and victims of crimes. It
was a long journey to discover who I was and why. I am not a professional
writer or a professional speaker. People ask me all the time why I wrote the
book and the only reason I have is because I had to. I couldn’t escape the
dreams to write it. After my mother died, my step-father called me to go over
to his house. I made all the arrangements to have my mother’s body picked up
and cremated. My step-father also asked me to take the sheets off the bed that
she had her heart attack on and in doing so, I found a letter; To my daughter.
It was a suicide letter telling me what a disappointment I was to her and how I
had ruined her life. My mother is in a better place, she is healthy and happy
and free from mental illness. My birth father is still alive although I never
speak to him he will occasionally call and leave a message letting me know he’s
alive and if I ever want to make any extra cash, he would be willing to pay me
instead of those Asian girls for a sexual massage.
Today, I am a business owner of a Real Estate company in
Modesto where I have been extremely blessed with my second marriage and my
three children. I have no ill feelings towards the people who don’t believe
that my parents were capable of doing the things they did because I too didn’t
believe my own son and wonder what our relationship would be like if he never
had a STD. How would his life be after being denied for his claim of being
sexually abused? I often thank God that we found out and my son was able to
seek justice. I wrote Chocolate Flowers for everyone who thinks it never will
or never can. Thank you for learning about me and reading the book.
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Jori was born in San Francisco, CA and raised in San Ramon. Her birth
father was an alcoholic, pan handler and dumpster diver and mother suffered
from dissociative personality disorder and preferred to stay in
her bed researching new diseases and diagnosing people with them since she was
also a physic. Jori never spoke about the sexual abuse from either parent and
had lived her life raising two children then married the love of her life and
had another child. Jori tried to begin over and over with both parents but could never change who they were which was difficult and
confusing for her.
Jori’s dream is to teach others what she has learned by writing the
book, Chocolate Flowers, in hopes that the reader will not want to put it down
but will also learn to detect a pedophile or abused child in hopes to help put
an end to this silent epidemic and encourage others to talk about their abuse
and not hold it in. http://jorinunes.weebly.com/
