I Could Have Kept $100,000. I Didn’t.

I’m a creature who loves a routine. I feel at ease when I know I’ve done my daily movement. I’ve scheduled my content for the week. I’ve checked in with my mom. I’ve prepped food for the week. It soothes something in my neuro-spicy brain to know that even if it all goes to shit, I’ve done what I’ve defined as my minimum.

In the last week, I’ve done absolutely zero of those things. I have failed in many, many aspects of my routine and many, many aspects of my personal life.

I’ve scrolled too much. I’ve slept too little. I’ve pushed too hard and, in fact, made myself sick. I have eaten whatever I could find, whatever I could scrounge, whatever bae could bring to me. Meal prepping was not even a thought, let alone a healthy meal. The result is that this Monday I feel like dog shit and I’m behind.

The crux of this drama is that I had a decision to make over the last week: whether I wanted to be a good capitalist or a good community member. That was neither an easy nor cheap decision.

As the founder of Unfiltered & Fed, what this space becomes is on me. And sometimes that fucking sucks.

I run trips primarily to the Middle East, deliberately, because I think it’s a part of the world that Americans deeply misunderstand, and that leads to violence and prejudice that could be avoided. It’s also because the Middle East and North Africa is my second home. I speak Arabic, I read and write Arabic, I have a master’s in Arabic studies, I was a U.S. diplomat who served in the region, and I have lived, worked, studied, and traveled there since I became an adult. I’m now 35.

When I think about offering the kind of experiences I want to offer, subversive ones, intentionally, the Middle East was always my first thought. That’s why, in Jordan, we have dinner with a Palestinian Jordanian chef. That’s why, in Morocco, we deliberately spend time in Amazigh homes. That’s why, in Egypt, I make sure we have dinner with a Nubian family.

And then our fuck-ass president decided to bomb Iran. Without making plans for contingencies, without plans for evacuating American citizens, without any of the things a responsible president would think to do. In doing so, pun intended, he blew up years of planning on my end and tens of thousands of dollars worth of capital investment: scouting trips, time in the region, making sure we had the best and most up-to-date itineraries.

As a result, I made the decision last week to cancel the upcoming Jordan trip, which would have started in a little over a week. It’s such a shame, because in my experience the Middle East is broadly safe except for when America makes it unsafe.

So I had to decide what kind of business I was running.

When I made the decision to cancel, I reached out to our operator on the ground and worked with them to cancel without fees so we could get our money back. I was trying to communicate timely updates to travelers. I was reviewing our contracts, both with the company on the ground and with travelers, to see where we legally stood.

Per the trip agreement our travelers signed, I was not actually required to give anyone a refund. Our contracts with travelers covered force majeure. Missiles flying overhead definitely qualified.

So, I could have elected to keep everyone’s money.

I’ll admit I thought about it for a millisecond. I thought about what that $100,000-plus could do. That’s more than my salary for a whole year. That’s an extra team member to help me wade through all of this. That’s moving out of my rent-controlled studio apartment, which doesn’t have a dishwasher or a washer and dryer, and which I’ve frankly outgrown. I’m keeping it because it’s the smartest financial decision right now. That money would have meant I didn’t have to think about any of that for a while.

But I’ve never aspired to be a billionaire. I don’t have any desire to scale beyond being able to expand my team so we can run experiences without me having to be on all of them and do everything myself. I want a sustainable business, not to get rich. And I’ve always positioned this as a community, not just a brand. While I could see that other capitalists would not be giving y’all your money back, I absolutely do not want to be fucking Elon Musk.

Trip deposits are non-refundable. They cover my tickets to the region, team costs, and deposits for on-the-ground experiences that require them. They’re spent the moment you book. Everything else, I have offered a refund for or a credit toward a future trip.

The credit is strategic; I’ll be honest about that. We’re trying to entice people to keep their money in the Unfiltered & Fed ecosystem so that my cash flow for the next six months isn’t entirely fucked. So far it’s about a 50/50 split, half taking the refund, half taking the credit.

To our paid subscribers especially: having subscription revenue here is what gives me the space to make decisions like this, to think beyond my own bottom line. It’s because of this community that I’m able to operate the way I do. Thank you.

If you’re registered for Morocco or Egypt this fall, those trips are proceeding as planned. I’ve talked to our operators on the ground at length. Morocco and Egypt are in Africa, geographically distant from what’s happening in the Middle East. Morocco wasn’t included on the recent State Department travel warning at all, and while Egypt was, it has not been hit by any airstrikes. My friends on the ground assure me that life proceeds as normal. If anything changes, we will make our decision based on your safety first, and I will do everything I can to do right by you financially.

Beyond that, I’m pivoting.

We wanted to truly root into our Middle East offerings before expanding broadly. Those trips are so special. But they’re just not reliable right now because of the American government. So diversification proceeds with a much higher priority.

There are places outside the Middle East where I have real experience on the ground. Patagonia is a place I’ve been wanting to run a trip for years, because it is one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places on the planet, and it has been, for too long, the exclusive territory of old white people and their bucket lists. I don’t see why they should have a monopoly on the nicest places on earth. There’s incredible, world-class wine. There are penguins! There are hikes that will rewire your brain, both easy and more strenuous. There is space in the Patagonia landscape for something truly different, and I’m trying to build it.

I’m also introducing what I’m calling Test Trips. The idea is to trial and refine experiences together, in smaller groups, in places where I have an on-the-ground operator I trust and an itinerary I’d put at 80 to 85% (so some experience, but where I’d typically want one more trip before standing something up for the public). Not perfect yet, but really good.

In exchange for your patience and feedback throughout, Test Trips will be cheaper. I’ll take a lower margin to make them more accessible, and together we’ll get the itinerary to where it needs to be. When we go live with a full offering after a test run, I can honestly say it’s been tried, refined, and it is the best we can do.

This is not what I planned for this year. I thought we had more time before I had to make this leap. But honestly, what better way to build something than to take some of you along with us while we do it.

I still have more storytelling coming. But I wanted to pop in this week and give you all the real, because it has been a hard one. I keep thinking about having to pivot yet again, about how we move forward, and then I think about my friends who are still in the region, and I remember that my problems are the small ones.

We’ll be okay. I’m just not sure they will.