The Girls We Were began with an image.

While participating in psychedelic therapy, writer-director Eva Contis experienced the unexpected return of a long-forgotten memory: a photograph she had not thought about in years.

The image was haunting and made her uneasy, especially the note on the back. Yet, she had no recollection of who the guy was, just a clue in what was written on the back.

Who was the man in the photograph?

Why can't she remember him at all?

And what else had been forgotten alongside it?

As Eva began searching for answers, she found herself drawn into a real mystery that stretched back more than forty years. What started as a search for the meaning of a single photograph became something much larger: an exploration of memory, perspective, friendship, and the stories we carry about our lives.

The deeper she looked, the more she became fascinated by the ways memory changes over time. How different people can remember the same event differently. How the stories we tell ourselves can become part of our identity. And how revisiting the past can reveal truths that were impossible to see when we first experienced them.

Those questions became the foundation for The Girls We Were — a mystery rooted in a real photograph, a real search for answers, and the complicated process of making sense of the past.

Why This Story Matters Now

We are living through a cultural moment defined by reexamination.

Across generations, people are revisiting the past through new lenses. Conversations around trauma, memory, mental health, and personal accountability have moved from private spaces into public dialogue.

At the same time, emerging research into psychedelic-assisted therapy is expanding public understanding of neuroplasticity and the brain's capacity for change. As these treatments gain mainstream attention, many people are exploring how new perspectives can reshape long-held narratives, uncover forgotten memories, and help break patterns that can persist across generations.

Yet much of the conversation remains focused on treatment itself. What is often missing are the deeply human stories that follow: the process of making meaning from the past, reexamining relationships, and integrating new understanding into everyday life.

The Girls We Were enters that conversation through the lens of narrative cinema, inviting audiences to consider questions that extend far beyond psychedelic therapy:

How reliable are our memories?

Can two people carry different truths about the same event?

What do we owe the younger versions of ourselves?

Is healing about uncovering the past, or learning how to live with it?

At a time when audiences are searching for stories that feel both personal and universal, The Girls We Were offers a mystery rooted not in what happened decades ago, but in how we continue to make meaning of it today.