Browsing porn online can prove itself a bit of a minefield. You make it past the dozens of ad pop-outs for free betting, DIY wrinkle remedies – ‘all doctors hate her’ – and millionaire-making schemes, and then have a few false starts with the site’s player. After a lot of buffering, you might be met with something you didn’t expect – maybe the title totally didn’t match the movie or the tags were wrong, and you’ve ended up with someone that you won’t find any pleasure in. Maybe it’s something that actually makes you feel a bit uncomfortable.

Survivors of sexual assault are in danger of being in a position where, when looking for something that’s meant to facilitate pleasure, are instead forced to relive a traumatic event. Porn has, in recent years, shifted on its axis to prop up something other than the aggressive male gaze; just look at the work of feminist erotic filmmaker Erika Lust and her XConfessions series, and that the Feminist Porn Awards even exists, which celebrates the erotica championing women’s sexuality. Nevertheless, major porn sites are still permeated by ‘Hot teens’, ‘forced blow jobs’ and scenes where consent is a total non-issue.

The Clit List is a new project addressing the obstacle that many survivors of sexual violence can experience: finding pleasure and sexuality on their own terms again. It’s a database of porn that shares a non-misogynistic perspective, omitting violence or scenes that could be potentially triggering. The site categorises various erotic media: long and short films, photography and literature, providing detailed synopses and a rating system.

Pavan Amara is behind The Clit List and the umbrella project My Body Back. Raped as a teenager, Amara found that immediate services for women affected by sexual violence were helpful, but longterm healthcare and emotional and mental health support fell short. “It was things like how I felt about my body, how it affects how you access healthcare, and your sex life,” Amara explains. Questioning this serious gap in support, she set up My Body Back, which provided workshops for women to work through reclaiming their sexuality.

“Out of the first 30 women, all of them said their sex life had been affected in some way since the attack. I remember very clearly that there was one woman who said that since the attack, in an attempt to reclaim her sexuality for herself, she'd slept with over 100 men, and she hadn't used any contraception apart from the pill. I heard a number of times about women vomiting after sex because they were so tense during penetration, or blacking out.”

“Over half said they hadn't been for cervical sceenings since the attack, and they were worried about flashbacks. Some didn't like the fact that somebody else was in control of their body again,” she continues. “Phrases clinicians would use accidentally would remind them often of what happened, like there was one woman who was told by her nurse to relax, and that was exactly what the rapist had said to her.”

Many of the women in the original group had also avoided STI testing, afraid of similar flashbacks, or being judged by clinic workers or doctors. From this, Amara founded the idea of a sexual health clinic specifically for women survivors, with workshops that would help to build a community.

“(The Clit List) gives women the opportunity to use something that isn’t misogynistic and violent, that’s definitely consensual. They can make an informed decision on what they’re watching” – Pavan Amara

Amara explains that one of the frustrating things that inhibits a lot of survivors is the narrative that surrounds them – the media stereotype imposes the attack on a woman like it defines her, ‘her’ as a homogenous group too with no personality or being outside of their assault. “Women can lose their voices, she’s labeled for life. I think it comes down to the fact that people just don’t know how to react to a woman’s sexuality even still, and that also feeds into sexual assault,” Amara observes.

She continues: “It’s only in the last decade really where people have openly started talking about female orgasm, and the clitoris. It’s mostly and wrongly assumed that women aren't sexual, that they don't watch porn or that they don't have fantasies. When you add sexual assault into the mix, there is something silencing about that.”

As Amara says, women are expected to deal with their attack one way, or no way. There’s an expectation you can’t move on, and that you must live by another’s actions. This came up a lot in the workshops that Amara was initially running before The Clit List. Women wanted a non-judgmental space to explore masturbating again, experiencing orgasm without guilt, and get visually turned on by porn without something that could trigger painful memories. 

“(The Clit List) gives women who use our project the opportunity to use something that isn’t misogynistic and violent, that’s definitely consensual. They can make an informed decision on what they’re watching,” she explains.

Films, literature and art is submitted for review and from there, The Clit List team put together as much information about it as possible in writing. They break down scenes, highlight fetishes and detail the actors involved. Feminist, queer, BDSM and all variations of erotica make an appearance on the site. There's a kind of tag system too. Together, it provides a user with as much agency as possible over what they visually consume.

Another thing the project sheds light on is sex toys, with detailed information. “Some women can be very tense, and find penetrative sex very difficult. Learning to let the pelvic muscles relax with a sex toy can be really helpful,” Amara says.

The website and workshops offer frank help with masturbation, when touching yourself and getting to know your body again can be difficult. The next step, Amara explains, is to keep expanding the database and give The Clit List its own independent website. From there, they can monitor traffic and what’s the most popular videos and tutorials to give users the most optimum experience. There’s also plans to do more sex toy reviews and offer expert and peer advice, with talks of workshops in areas of South Africa and India too. 

Amara says: “It’s where they could just be in control of their body, that’s fun and gives you time to reflect on yourself. We provide them with the tools to bring back control. From there, they can rediscover what they like and explore it further.”