This article contains mentions of sexual assault
Unstitching the shame around sexual assault (SA) is no easy task, in fact it’s one I think you can never completely achieve. I often liken it to unstitching seams, although fabric can return to its original length and size, pin-prick sized holes will always remain.
Like so many women (one in four according to the Ministry of Justice), I was sexually assaulted. Finding the courage to write those very words down, let alone to see them published, took me years. And to be honest, it still terrifies me, but I know that the only way to de-stigmatise SA is to be open and stop living in shame.
The Clitoris Conundrum, premiering at Basement Theatre on April 2, is my way of unstitching so to speak. The play centres around a character named Cameron who has a serious conundrum with her clitoris – it isn’t working. Years of blocking her SA trauma are beginning to implode, as intimacy itself becomes a challenge. Her mind may have forgotten what happened, but her body never did.
Set in a Tāmaki Makaurau flat adorned with a ruby-woo red lip couch where couple Cameron, Sam and their best friend Ariki reside, the play follows Cameron’s journey to ‘fix the clit’, as Ariki puts it.
Our characters navigate the overwhelming and down-right intimidating world of sexual therapy and of course, the pandora’s box of sex-toys. We meet an animate lap-dancing vibrator called Vanessa, the questionable Sex Shop Steve, and a yoni-obsessed therapist, Dr Bloom.
The issue at hand is that Cameron is suffering from a serious case of anorgasmia. And it’s causing an irreparable rift between her and her girlfriend Sam, threatening to destroy their relationship, as Sam grapples with the reality that Cameron just isn’t very interested in sex. We see just how far the ripple effects of SA span, as the people Cameron love bear the brunt of her sometimes messy and volatile healing process.
Meanwhile the oh-so charismatic Ariki is facing his own battle, keeping his dreams of Drag-stardom in the closet for fear of losing his family. It took years for Ariki’s mum to come to terms with his sexuality, and while Sam and Cameron gas Ariki up to strut in his thigh high boots, he wonders if revealing his feminine side to his family will be the final straw.
Writing The Clitoris Conundrum was a lengthy process that involved what felt like endless tears, and bouts of self-doubt. However, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t cathartic, and I now realise an integral part of my own healing journey.
The first seed of the idea sprung when I was studying at The Actor’s Program in 2021, where we were tasked with devising a 10-minute solo-show on a difficult personal experience.
Over the past three years I have been refining, re-writing and devising the show, weaving through the experiences of other SA victims, and finding the fine balance of comedy and drama. I was inspired by Michaela Cole’s series I May Destroy You and Suzie Miller’s play Prima Facie, which both deal with SA content in a truthful and powerful manner, staying clear of the sensationalism stories of this nature often receive.
My goal has been to create a show that is empowering, hilarious and also heartbreaking. I want SA victims to feel seen when they watch The Clitoris Conundrum, and hopefully feel a small chink in the cloak of shame that so many of us wear fall away. Ultimately it is a celebration of resilience, of love and of queerness.
The Clitoris Conundrum runs from April 2-6 at the Basement Theatre in Auckland. Tickets are $18-$26; buy here. There will be on-site counselling support.
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Sexual violence: Where to get help
- Rape Crisis 0800 88 33 00, click link for local helplines.
- Victim Support 0800 842 846.
- Safetalk text 4334, phone 0800 044 334 webchat safetotalk.nz or email support@safetotalk.nz.
- The Harbour Online support and information for people affected by sexual abuse.
- Women’s Refuge 0800 733 843
- Male Survivors Aotearoa Helplines across NZ, click to find out more (males only).
- If you or someone else is in immediate danger, call 111.
