Kris and Naomi haven’t seen each other in 15 years. They meet for dinner in Claremont, where they went to college together. Over the course of one night, memories are shared and secrets are exposed.
In 2014, I came out to my parents as trans. My dad offered some cautionary advice, saying that even if I transitioned, all of my personal issues wouldn’t suddenly disappear. At the time I didn’t want to believe him, but today his words ring true. Despite all of the positive effects transitioning has had on my life, I’m still a people pleaser, a workaholic, and someone who continues to struggle with body dysmorphia and depression.
Much of See You Then is born out of my personal experiences. For years, the guilt of leading-on my exes plagued me. At the time, it felt like those relationships were a life-line, a way to consider myself “normal.” Maybe — I told myself — maybe if I kept that relationship going and had a family, then that would prevent me from going down the path to my true self. Ultimately, that fantasy ended and a different sort of guilt and depression began to set in— the guilt and depression of never having my own family.
Children are an important part of my life and having grandchildren has always been a big dream of my parents. Choosing to transition meant that my chances of having children significantly dropped. It took me many years to admit that this was a possibility.
All of these thoughts were rolling around in my head as I began to conceptualize See You Then. The characters of Kris and Naomi slowly took shape, and I truly fell in love with them. For all of their insecurities and failings, these women are undeniably human.
See You Then centers around the universal truth that no matter how much we change, part of us will always remain the same.