“I stopped developing in 1999,” admits Mae Whitman. It’s a surprising statement for a 34-year-old to make, but “I’m such a ’90s fanatic,” she said on “Salon Talks.” “I’m going to just keep wearing these clothes and listening to this music.”

After spending a lifetime in front of the camera as a child star in films like “Independence Day,” a teen actor in “Arrested Development” and “The DUFF,” and later in series like “Parenthood” and “Good Girls,” Whitman has finally arrived exactly where she knows she’s always belonged — the New York City of Carrie Bradshaw. As the star of Hulu’s romantic series “Up Here,” Whitman sings, dances and falls in love with “The Flash” actor Carlos Valdes in a Y2K Manhattan, albeit one that’s a little more Coldwater Creek than Manolo Blahnik.

With a creative crew featuring heavyweights from “Hamilton,” “Dear Evan Hansen,” “Book of Mormon” and “Frozen,” the show is a dream come true for Whitman, who gets to flex her dramatic, comedic and musical muscles in every episode. “I remember getting the audition sheet,” she said, “and being like, Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.'” 

Watch the “Salon Talks” episode with Mae Whitman to hear more about why she’s a ’90s girl at heart, how she’s pushed back against “the average standard of unhealthy beauty in this industry” and the secret of growing up in Hollywood and turning out “OK-ish.” 

The following conversation has been lightly edited for clarity and length.

“Up Here” is an incredible, unusual show.

Yes, it is unusual. It’s so funny, everyone’s always like, “Tell it to us in a sentence,” and I’m like, “I can’t.” Because it’s so different. It’s not like anything I’ve seen. It’s not like anything I’ve been a part of. The general idea of it is it’s a love story. It’s a rom-com, which I also love. It has a very ’90s, nostalgic vibe. But I think the hot take on it is, it’s an original musical that is like, what if the voices in your head express themselves through song? 

It’s just a different way of expressing the constant narrative that’s going on in your head and the insecurities and the defense mechanisms. I was drawn to it because on the surface you’re like, sure, it’s funny, it’s light. It’s heartwarming. Then it also really deals with deep, intense themes of mental health and trauma, but it all comes together in this interesting package.

Sometimes you go into something and you’re like, “Yeah. We’ve seen this before. We know if we just rely on this kind of a shot or this trope or whatever, we can do it.” This was, there’s no guidebook. We were figuring it out as we went, which was really exciting.

You have this Greek chorus that’s interesting. And in front of the camera and behind the camera, the amount of musical talent in this show is crazy.

It’s almost comical. You’re like, you guys . . . Is this a practical joke? You can’t all be working on one project. It should be illegal. We got Thomas Kail from “Hamilton.” We got the Lopezes, who did “Frozen,” “Book of Mormon,” “Avenue Q.” I mean, it just goes on and on. And then of course, Stephen Levinson who did “Tick, Tick . . . Boom” and “Dear Evan Hansen.” And Danielle Sanchez. It just keeps going on and on. The list, it never ends. 

I remember getting the audition sheet and being like, “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” Initially, I was terrified and intimidated because I’m going to throw myself into the deep end of doing this musical theater situation which I’ve never done before, with the uppermost echelon of people involved. I pictured the audition was going to be “Tar,” where they’re all using giant words that I don’t understand, and making jokes that are way over my head. And it couldn’t have been more opposite than that. 

I think sometimes when people are so good at what they do, they don’t need to be rubbing it in your face. It just comes out of them naturally. It’s in their bones, what they do. They just are so free with it. There was no controlling. It was very collaborative. They wanted to bring people into the job that they identified with something about them. They weren’t trying to mold us into something we weren’t. They wanted us to bring our own spirit and energy to the characters and the project. So thank the Lord.

And it takes place in 1999.

Yes. Great year.

I know you’re a “Sex and the City” fan, so now you get to live in Carrie Bradshaw’s 1999 Manhattan.

It’s unbelievable. Somewhere in a different timeline, she’s down there dealing with her stuff. While I’m uptown, dealing with my stuff.

She’s fighting with Aiden over here, and then you are in plastic pants.

Yes. Brady is at the playground while I’m in plastic pants, dancing down the street. It’s really cool. I’m such a ’90s fanatic. I genuinely am. I stopped developing in 1999. I was like, you know what? I’m going to just keep wearing these clothes and listening to this music.

You’re 11 at this point?

Yeah. Weird. Probably because I was a child actor, somehow I was a little bit ahead where I was like, “I feel like an old man trapped in a young woman’s body right now. I’m exhausted. I’m jaded. I’m tired.” For some reason, it was such a formative time. It’s that time where you’re starting to have crushes and you’re understanding music. And you’re like, “I’m going to Lilith Fair. You guys don’t understand what it’s like. Paula Cole gets me, and you don’t, Mom.” It’s that kind of energy. 

To be able to go back to that time as an adult and live what that felt like was so nostalgic and amazing. And the clothes were incredible. The thing I loved about it too is, it wasn’t the cute side of the ’90s. It was like, we’re going to make this real ’90s. Coldwater Creek ’90s. You’re going to be in sweaters. It’s not going to always be the best concept. Because the real ones, you’ve got to go there. To this generation I’m like, commit. Commit to the look. If you want to go ’90s, really get those cargoes on and be serious about this because it was tough.

You talked about being a child actor. You were the child actor. You were in big time. “When A Man Loves A Woman,” “One Fine Day,” “Independence Day.” You grew up in front of the camera. A lot of actors who went through that did not come out as well as you did. What was it about your upbringing that enabled you to endure this in a way where are OK?

OK-ish.

Yeah. Because it’s a hard industry.

It really is. It’s something I think about a lot. Especially now having played a mom, it brings a completely different perspective to it. You film so many scenes in cars, and I was so used to sitting in the passenger side of a car, looking up at a person playing my parent. I remember the first scene I filmed behind the wheel, looking over at my child from this way. I was like, this is really freaking me out. I think any industry that’s mainly adult-focused, having a child in it can be tricky. Especially with this one, where you’re on camera. 

I’m so lucky. My publicist who’s known me since I was a baby would say the same thing. It was really all my parents. I got so lucky. I had genuinely good parents, who were super mature. They helped me get my priorities in order. We communicated about everything. The priority was always truly my happiness as a child. It would be like if there’s a field trip to the dinosaur museum and it coincides with this Martin Scorsese movie, too bad. She wants to do the field trip. It was about me as a human being and what I wanted to do. And luckily being on a set, it felt like home. From the get-go. I’m very social. You create members of a family and you’re a team. In the right setting, it can be a really stimulating and wonderful, and actually protective universe for kids.

But you get into trouble because you really have to have people who have your true and genuine best interest as a person at heart around you. Unfortunately, it behooves people, like any big situation, or corporation, or operation, sometimes shaving a little off the edges, or pushing you or manipulating you a little bit. It can help them out to cut these corners. Little things can have a huge effect on children’s lives, I think. It’s just unfortunate, because you have to be so meticulously careful about the environment that you put your kid in. 

My parents would pass on everything. They would have long phone conversations, long meetings with people to get a sense of them as human beings, and how they were going to keep me safe. My parents wouldn’t let me do “Letterman” when I was a kid because they had seen him make jokes at children’s expenses. Not anything mean, but just not having them in on the joke. They were like, “No. We don’t want to put you in that situation.” And God bless, Dave Letterman made a tape, and they were like, “Look. This is Dave being really sweet with kids, and we promise we’ll take care of her.” And I did, and they did.

I think you have to be so present. You have to find a way to really focus on bringing yourself back to a place of health and balance. Keeping yourself rooted and not letting the noise up here guide you on your life path, and push you away from what you know to be true and genuine. Honestly, I’m just lucky that I had that, because I would be licking drugs off a sidewalk if I didn’t have my parents keeping things balanced, so I’m forever thankful for that.

You’ve played some really difficult roles. Some indelible roles. With “The Duff,” you worked really hard to create this character and make her real. Watching “Up Here” now, to me, almost feels like a continuation of that story.

Totally.

It’s about the labels that other people put on us, and then the labels that we put on ourselves, and wading through all of that noise.

That’s right. And not letting it throw you completely off course from what you know to be true for yourself. “The Duff” was so important to me. Initially, I was really specific about the script because I have been in that position, having been in this industry my whole life and having not just been a supermodel, or whatever the average standard of unhealthy beauty in this industry. You’d have people who’d be like “Well, you’re not those things. You’re this or that.” That’s exactly the point. There’s this comparison thing that happens and this striving to be this thing. It’s all about perception. We act like things are objective that are completely subjective. We have to be the rulers of change of that.

We have to expand our perspective to realize that doesn’t exist. That thing that’s like, “Well, if you could just be this, then that thing will go away. That stigma, that feeling, that insecurity will go away.” But it’s not that. There’s always something that someone can compare yourself to or that someone will compare you to. It’s about finding a way of being like, “That’s actually just a mindset, and I’m not subscribing to it and I don’t have to.” Then it’s over. It dissipates. 

I really had been in positions like that my whole life, growing up in this industry, of body standards and all these things. It was important to me to show I was bullied in high school, I’ve been dealing with this image stuff my whole life, and I want you all to know that it’s not real. It’s a way of being that is outdated and old and we can change it by throwing it in the trash.

You’re right that with this show, it takes that to a deeper level when it comes to mental health and trauma. My whole career has been based on, if one person can take something from this that makes them feel a little bit better, or a little less alone, or a little more understood, then I’m good. My job is done. The one thing that I can do for all the things I can’t is share my experience genuinely. Try to really be vulnerable. I get off on being vulnerable enough to try to communicate to people through the experiences. 

This project . . . First of all, it was extremely vulnerable to do. Not just because it was singing, which is difficult and strange and vulnerable. But because the deeper themes of it are really examining your past trauma and your defense mechanisms and the judgements that you put in place about yourself, about other people, about the world that you live in that maybe you formulated when you were younger, to try to keep you safe. 

The idea of that can be a false sense of safety. The idea that tells you not to run into the middle of the street because you’ll be hit by a car maybe isn’t the same voice you should listen to that says don’t try to do the thing that you really want to do because you’ll fail. There’s a discrepancy. I feel like it’s easy to try to keep yourself in a zone that feels like well, maybe don’t rock the boat. I don’t know what’s on the other side and I can’t control it, so I’m never going to try. As opposed to reframing the idea of the process and going, I’m actually going to find joy in the process of not knowing what’s on the other side, but knowing that whatever it is if I lay the foundation correctly, at least I’ll have myself there. I’ll know how I got there, and where I am. And I trust that it will be more genuine than where I am now. 

When you’re talking about delivering that message and setting that example, you’re not just doing it in your acting. You’ve also been really public about your experience of endometriosis. You’re producing a documentary that’s coming out now. Tell me about what your own experience was. It took you 15 years to get a diagnosis?

Yes.

Fifteen years in pain.

Which by the way, is not uncommon. The average genuine diagnosis time for people with endo is 10 to 15 years. Because the issue of course of women’s health, which is something that is not taken seriously. Is not being funded properly. Is not being developed. Is not being examined properly. It’s this really complicated situation where OB-GYNs have to be trained to do everything. It has to be a huge range of knowledge, as opposed to this very specialized, very specific not really known about [condition] — not rare — one in seven people is affected by endometriosis, they think. Which is insane. But there’s such a lack of awareness. It requires specialized knowledge. It’s really infuriating for people that are asked to have this giant wealth of knowledge to then also have to try to know the ins and outs of this really complicated disease.

I ended up getting to the point where I had a week and a half out of every month that’s good and then the rest of it is completely messed up with pain and bloating and anxiety and stress. The concept of not being able to gain an understanding of what your body is going through is the most infuriating and isolating thing. Because you’re like, am I crazy? Is this not real? Is it not that big of a deal? I would leave these appointments going, what is it? I don’t understand. They’d say, “Oh, well just go on birth control.” Or, “Oh, have a baby.” Imagine. Or, “Oh, get a hysterectomy.” God forbid . . . “It might be this complicated disease, and there’s nothing you can really do about it. You can get a surgery, but it never works.” And et cetera, et cetera. So you just lose hope, and you just deal with it. 

I’d be like, OK. Cedars-Sinai, here I come. They’d put me on morphine, I’d be barfing my guts out. I was passing on jobs. It also affected my confidence. People would be like “Oh, you’re flaky. You can’t commit to something.” I’d be like, “I’m dying and I can’t explain to you why, because you don’t understand that this is a real condition.” I feel like it’s a part of my real calling in this life is to try to get as much awareness about that as possible. 

The moment I found my surgeon, Dr. Orbach, I sat across from her, [and] she was like, “You have three hours.” My appointment was three hours long. She drew an upside down diagram of a vagina — upside down — I was like, this woman is incredible. She’s also a Gemini. She drew this thing out, and was writing. She was like, this is what it is. This is what it means. This is why it happens. This is what it can be. I cried hysterically. It was a comprehensive thing. It was your brain, and your heart, and what it does to your nervous system, and all these things. There is a way to manage the pain. There’s no cure for the disease. But with proper treatment, with the proper excision, there’s a way to manage it.

The documentary, “Below the Belt,” I highly recommend everyone watch. Even I, who have been dealing with this for so long, cried like a baby when I saw it in the theater. Everyone that saw it in the theater was crying like a baby. I just really would love for that to be something. Because everyone I meet knows somebody who’s affected by it.

I want to ask you one more question. You love the ’90s. What was your favorite thing about doing a show set in ’99? Was it a song? Was it an outfit? Was it a flip phone?

My serious answer is, the part that was really great about it was not having cell phones. So many conflicts can just be solved by Googling it or Instagram stalking someone. The concept of getting to know someone in a timely manner, where you see what they put forth and you’re not sure what it means. And then, “What are you willing to give? What are they willing to give?” has gone out the window. Now you look at their Instagram and you’re like, “Eww. I don’t like this. I’m not doing it.” It can mess up your judgment of something. It doesn’t play out the way that it used to. And also as an actor, just not looking down. You’re actually looking up, and aware of your situation. 

But I think in a fun way, the clothes. Our stylist, Nikki, was so real. She was like, I’m not doing the fake thing. She’s like, I’m going to Delia’s. I’m going to Limited Too. It was very legit. I feel like being able to do that and then also exploring that with Carlos, my co-star, who’s incredible, and wonderfully talented and kind and generous. Every time he would come out in a terrible polo, I would just die laughing because I think it’s the funniest thing of all time.

Also being terrified of Y2K is still to me, iconic. I remember my dad being like, “You don’t understand. The computers are going to explode.” I was like, “No, it’s going to be OK. Let’s try to get through this. Let’s just try to get through to 12:01, Dad. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

And we somehow made it.

Here we are, better than ever.