I've had a week of unfiltered. A month of unfiltered. Nine months of unfiltered. And it's refreshing, but insanely scary and completely uncontrollable and full of risk.
Living filtered is so much easier. "Filtered" convinces you that your detached emotions are actually effective boundaries. Because you function well "filtered". Until you can't escape that constant nagging of, "I'm sure there's more to life than this". But "filtered" keeps things predictable and accountable and manageable. "Filtered" keeps your heart safe. But "filtered" filters out the fullness of what it feels like to live. Over the edge. "Filtered" keeps things small. But neat. Ordered. But mediocre. Pleasing to all who look on, but dissatisfied to self.
Unfiltered. Unrefined. Freak-out. Speaking outside of speech bubbles is confusing and messy and loud. And beyond your ability to control what the world thinks of you. "Filtered" keeps everyone in neat little packages. "Filtered" keeps your life tidy and constructed according to good rules and white-picked fences. "Unfiltered" deconstructs and brings out the swearing and the mascara-down-the-cheeks and the untucked shirt. "Unfiltered" brings out liberation. "Unfiltered" brings out sobbing on bedroom floors and shouting out heart rhythms that have been defibrillated and giving voice to all the utterances you've kept hushed for so long. "Unfiltered" opens permission to start healing a life that's been "filtered" for too long. Because it's risky living real and raw and obvious. Because who you are sometimes feels too much. Or not enough. But...
"Filtered" pretends to protect you, when the truth is it prevents you.
"Unfiltered". There are no guarantees. But man, it's good to stretch out your space a bit more than you believe you have the courage to do. It's so good to not have to be filtered.