Set against the modern dating landscape, Strangers We Know explores a generation caught between longing and self-protection. In a culture where commitment feels risky and vulnerability is feared, Mabel and William navigate their relationship with one foot in and one foot out. Desire, insecurity, unmet needs, and longing intertwine—exposing the hidden beliefs they’ve carried to fit in, to be wanted, to belong.

Act I

At a crowded downtown party, Mabel arrives with friends and finds herself in a world far removed from her own. Slipping away to the rooftop, she unexpectedly runs into William, an old flame. Their reunion is charged, hinting at a shared past no one else at the party knows about—a relationship shaped by longing, projection, and the quiet fear that being truly known might cost them belonging.

Act II

Four years earlier, Mabel and William match online. What begins as an awkward encounter grows into an intense, intimate connection. Over the following months, they stay connected through texts and occasional visits, idealizing each other as their limited time together fuels a passionate but unrealistic bond. The two begin to mirror each other's flaws, and their connection begins to fracture the identities they've built to be accepted. Due to the revelation of the hidden selves that neither was ready to face, the relationship ends.

Act III

In the years that follow, Mabel begins to reclaim a sense of wholeness. When she and William reunite at the party where the film began, he sees the moment as a chance for closure that Mabel no longer needs. What once felt like unfinished love becomes something else: the recognition that their connection was never meant to complete them, but to reveal who they were becoming.

She fears she isn’t good enough; he fears losing belonging

She hides her authentic voice; he hides his authentic identity

She creates for others; he lives for others.

Mabel is a small-town painter who dreams of pursuing a life as an artist in New York. Terrified of failing, she creates work she thinks others will approve of—or avoids painting altogether. She hides parts of herself and avoids vulnerability under the facade of being in touch with herself.

William is an up-and-coming investment banker who has spent the last two years building what appears to be the perfect life in New York City. Successful, respected, and secure, he believes he has created his own path. He is convinced that his lifestyle is proof of his independence, even as he quietly suppresses himself to belong.

Inspiration for the Film

• Before Sunrise
• The Worst Person in the World
• Past Lives
• La La Land

Lighting & Camera:

• Colder shades in Acts One and Three show uncertainty and reality.
• Warm, fiery hues in Act Two highlight their spark and fantasy.
• Handheld camera work, especially in their younger years, creates intimate, fluid movements that closely follow the characters.
• Natural and artificial light will also play a key role in highlighting the characters' perceptions of each other, as well as their own authenticity.

Theory

A heavy inspiration for the film is the idea of twin flames from a psychoanalytic lens. Twin flame relationships often act as mirrors, reflecting our shadow aspects. From a Jungian perspective, meeting a twin flame can trigger projections where each person initially sees in the other an idealized version of their inner opposite. This intensity—the magnetic, transformative pull of twin flame connections—awakens profound parts of the psyche. In this light, twin flames are less about fate or romance and more about deep psychological mirroring and growth. They are catalysts for self-exploration, reflection, and integration, forcing both individuals to confront, evolve, and embrace their true selves.

Strangers We Know is currently in Pre-Production, gathering a passionate crew of talented creatives from New York City. Embarking on the creator's biggest project yet, however, we need YOUR help to bring this film to life.

Your support will...

• Finance a talented crew and cast. Your contributions help us hire skilled professionals who are passionate about our story.
• Cover high-quality equipment. This includes lighting, cameras, and sound gear essential for a polished film.
• Rent ideal locations. Your support allows us to secure the perfect settings to enhance our narrative.
• Ensure professional sound design. Expert sound composers will create an immersive audio experience.
• Elevate the film's quality. A polished final product will maximize our film's impact and reach.
• Facilitate festival submissions. Your contributions help us submit to prestigious film festivals for greater exposure.
• Open doors for future projects. Increased visibility can lead to new opportunities in the industry.

At its core, this project is about the spirit of young filmmakers who create not because the path is easy. We’ve taken risks and made sacrifices to pursue this film—choosing creativity over certainty and trusting that the stories we carry are worth telling.

With the support of this community, we hope to turn that passion into a film that reminds people they’re not alone—your support will help create this space and make the film's goal possible.

How You Can Help:

1. Pledge. Every contribution, no matter the size, brings us closer to our goal! Your support will make a lasting impact on the film’s success. 
2. Follow. Stay up-to-date on the film’s progress by following us here on Seed&Spark and on Instagram: 
3. Share. Help us spread the word! Share our campaign with your friends, family, and social networks. Like, comment, and repost our Instagram updates. The more people who know about Strangers We Know, the closer we are to reaching our goal!

Insecurity is a universal experience. Everyone craves acceptance and the desire to be seen for one’s true selves. This journey of self-discovery resonates deeply for me especially. From a young age, I’ve known I wanted to work in film. But as I grew older, I became increasingly aware of others' opinions, which reshaped my identity in ways I never intended.

I was a completely different person at home — confident and creative — than I was at school, where I struggled to find my way. I believed that fitting in would bring me love and friendship, yet I often felt alone, sacrificing my true self for the sake of companionship. I had unknowingly entered a habit of changing myself for others. 

This pattern continued into college, where I found it difficult to balance my identity with the social expectations around me. I toned myself down to fit into my college atmosphere, a decision I felt I had to hide from my friends back home. I thought changing myself would help me find connection, but instead, I lost parts of my self. 

I went so far as to secure an internship in advertising, just so I could say “I’m working in the city this summer,” and feel like everyone else. Meanwhile, I felt trapped in a world that didn’t resonate with who I truly am. It wasn’t until the summer before my Junior year of college that I realized I was living for others’ approval rather than my own happiness.

I decided to go to film school in Prague, by myself, hoping this would be the much-needed opportunity to step away from external pressures and focus on myself. Alone, and in a new country, I finally began to heal, In the historical “City of a Hundred Spires,” I redirected my past, discovering that the validation I sought from others was hollow. I learned to love myself, embracing the confidence that comes from within.

When I returned for my Senior year of college, everything changed. My mindset shift led me to form my closest friendships and a loving relationship, built on genuine connections with people who accepted me for who I truly am. It was a powerful lesson: when you embrace your true self, the right people will be drawn to you.

This film is a reflection of my journey: a story that explores the challenges of transitioning into adulthood, while navigating the fear of loneliness and the need for acceptance.

I want to convey the message that it’s okay to be alone; solitude provides the opportunity to discover who we truly are. 

Through this narrative, I hope to inspire others to embrace their individuality and recognize that they are enough as they are. The journey to self-acceptance is challenging, yet deeply liberating, and that true love begins with embracing yourself.

–Micaela Gutt

I grieve the love of my girlhood—not for its innocence, but for its illusion. How I mistook intensity for intimacy, how I learned to call anxiety devotion. The tightening in my chest, the racing pulse, the trembling hands—I thought that was love. I thought love was something that asked me to disappear just enough to keep it alive.

It wasn’t tenderness. It wasn’t safety. It was a fragile, distorted thing; built from insecurity, dependency, and a quiet, almost unnoticeable loss of self. I was living as half a person, reaching for someone else to make me whole, never realizing I was abandoning myself in the process.

And even when I walked away, it didn’t leave me. The body keeps what the mind tries to forget. The patterns lingered. The fear stayed. Every new connection became haunted by echoes of what came before, by wounds I hadn’t yet learned how to hold. I wasn’t meeting people as they were; I was meeting them through the shadow of everything I had survived.

Strangers We Know was born from this recognition. Not just of how we love, but of why we love the way we do. Why does love feel so overwhelming, so destabilizing? Why do we reach for others not only to connect, but to escape? To soften the parts of ourselves we don’t want to face?

I have come to understand that the deepest distance is not between two people—but within one. We can lie beside someone, be held by them, be known by them—and still feel entirely unknown to ourselves. And in that distance, love becomes something else. Something fragile. Something performative. Something that cannot quite hold.

So the question becomes unavoidable: can we love ourselves honestly? Not the idealized version, not the curated reflection—but the real one. The beautiful, complicated, frustrating, frightened, broken stranger within us. The one we spend so much time trying to outrun.

What happens when the fantasy cracks? When do the stories we told ourselves about love no longer protect us? Is there a truth on the other side that doesn’t destroy us—but instead asks us to see, to feel, to take responsibility for the ways we have hidden?

This film sits in the ache of these questions. In the quiet grief of realizing how long we have been strangers to ourselves.

And it asks, as gently and as painfully as it can: If we stop running—if we finally turn inward—how do we begin to love the person we find there?

–Mairen Tierney