When the records were finally lined up, one old transfer surfaced\u2014one the family had apparently stopped thinking about, yet it was enough to threaten the control they believed they still had.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t know that when I made the call.<\/p>\n
At that moment, I was still sitting on my dining room floor with the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, my purse dumped beside me and my lipstick somewhere under the table.<\/p>\n
My husband\u2019s family was still sitting around dinner as if the real problem was my attitude.<\/p>\n
My husband stood a few feet away, breathing hard after hitting me twice.<\/p>\n
His mother, Bonnie, looked almost satisfied.<\/p>\n
Harold kept his eyes low.<\/p>\n
Mason had finally stopped staring at his phone.<\/p>\n
Gemma was holding my lipstick between two fingers, studying it with more concern than she had shown me.<\/p>\n
Five minutes earlier, they had been discussing an extra $5,000 a month as though they were deciding whether to switch cable packages.<\/p>\n
Now I was calling a lawyer.<\/p>\n
The person who answered didn\u2019t begin with a lecture about marriage or ask me why I had tolerated the arrangement for so long.<\/p>\n
The first useful question was practical.<\/p>\n
Did I still have the records?<\/p>\n
I looked around that table and realized the answer was yes.<\/p>\n
Every transfer confirmation.<\/p>\n
Every message asking for money.<\/p>\n
Every explanation attached to those requests.<\/p>\n
Every time someone had said medicine, utilities, insurance, emergency, family responsibility.<\/p>\n
I had saved almost all of it because that was how my brain worked.<\/p>\n
Numbers were easier for me when they had a trail.<\/p>\n
For years, that habit had made me useful to everyone in the room.<\/p>\n
Now it was about to make me dangerous to them.<\/p>\n
The strange part was that I hadn\u2019t spent those five years thinking of myself as someone being used.<\/p>\n
I thought I was helping.<\/p>\n
There is a difference, and sometimes it takes one terrible moment to see it.<\/p>\n
The arrangement had started small enough to sound reasonable.<\/p>\n
Harold had medical appointments and prescriptions.<\/p>\n
There were household bills that Bonnie said had become difficult to manage.<\/p>\n
My husband told me his parents had sacrificed for him for years and that helping them was simply what successful adult children did when they could afford it.<\/p>\n
I understood that.<\/p>\n
I believed in family support.<\/p>\n
So I contributed.<\/p>\n
Then the amount grew.<\/p>\n
Eventually it became $10,000 every month.<\/p>\n
Not once.<\/p>\n
Not during an emergency.<\/p>\n
Every month.<\/p>\n
I paid enough that anyone outside the situation probably would have asked questions much sooner than I did.<\/p>\n
But relationships rarely become unreasonable all at once.<\/p>\n
They become unreasonable one accommodation at a time.<\/p>\n
A prescription needed to be picked up.<\/p>\n
A utility bill was higher than expected.<\/p>\n
A car insurance payment was due.<\/p>\n
Mason had an emergency.<\/p>\n
Then another.<\/p>\n
Then another.<\/p>\n
The word emergency became so flexible that it could apparently cover restaurant checks, sneakers, and purchases that had nothing to do with survival.<\/p>\n
Whenever I hesitated, somebody had an explanation ready.<\/p>\n
Bonnie was especially good at turning money into morality.<\/p>\n
If I helped, I was a good wife.<\/p>\n
If I questioned anything, I was selfish.<\/p>\n
If I asked where the money went, I was humiliating the family.<\/p>\n
If I suggested a limit, I was forgetting everything my husband had supposedly done for me.<\/p>\n
And my husband?<\/p>\n
He rarely had to demand anything directly.<\/p>\n
That was part of why I missed what was happening for so long.<\/p>\n
He could sigh.<\/p>\n
He could tell me his mother was stressed.<\/p>\n
He could say Mason was immature but still family.<\/p>\n
He could ask whether we really wanted to argue over money when I earned enough to solve the problem.<\/p>\n
The message was always the same.<\/p>\n
Paying was easier than resisting.<\/p>\n
So I paid.<\/p>\n
The money became routine.<\/p>\n
Once something becomes routine, people stop treating it like a favor.<\/p>\n
They begin planning around it.<\/p>\n
Then they begin depending on it.<\/p>\n
Eventually, if you\u2019re not careful, they begin believing it belongs to them.<\/p>\n
That was exactly what I heard in Bonnie\u2019s voice at dinner.<\/p>\n
\u201cStarting next month, you\u2019ll be depositing $15,000 into our account, Cadence. And don\u2019t make that face. You\u2019re my son\u2019s wife. That\u2019s what you\u2019re here for.\u201d<\/p>\n
She said it while cutting into dinner at my table.<\/p>\n
Not asking.<\/p>\n
Announcing.<\/p>\n
Rain tapped softly against the apartment windows while she increased my obligation by $5,000 as casually as if she were changing a standing order.<\/p>\n
Harold didn\u2019t look at me.<\/p>\n
Mason barely looked away from his phone.<\/p>\n
Gemma sat there admiring her wine-colored nails, her designer handbag beside her chair\u2014the same handbag I knew I had indirectly helped pay for.<\/p>\n
My husband kept scrolling.<\/p>\n
That detail stayed with me afterward.<\/p>\n
He kept scrolling.<\/p>\n
He wasn\u2019t surprised by his mother\u2019s demand.<\/p>\n
He wasn\u2019t embarrassed.<\/p>\n
He wasn\u2019t preparing to intervene.<\/p>\n
He behaved like this was normal.<\/p>\n
I tried to make it about facts.<\/p>\n
If there was a genuine medical expense, I said, we could review it.<\/p>\n
But I wasn\u2019t increasing the monthly amount.<\/p>\n
Bonnie stopped moving her fork.<\/p>\n
She repeated the phrase \u201cmonthly amount\u201d as though I had insulted her by admitting the money was measurable.<\/p>\n
Then she told me my husband had given me his last name and that contributing was the least I could do.<\/p>\n
Mason laughed.<\/p>\n
To him, $15,000 was apparently nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne more spreadsheet, one less spreadsheet,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
That line told me more than he intended.<\/p>\n
None of them seemed to understand that money did not appear because I opened a laptop.<\/p>\n
They saw the finished number.<\/p>\n
They didn\u2019t see deadlines, pressure, work, risk, concentration, or the hours behind it.<\/p>\n
They definitely didn\u2019t see a boundary between what I earned and what they wanted.<\/p>\n
Then Gemma smiled and said a family like theirs couldn\u2019t afford to look poor.<\/p>\n
She had a christening that Saturday.<\/p>\n
She couldn\u2019t show up wearing just anything.<\/p>\n
That was the moment something inside the entire arrangement changed for me.<\/p>\n
Not because handbags were worse than sneakers.<\/p>\n
Not because one expense was more offensive than another.<\/p>\n
Because they had stopped pretending.<\/p>\n
This wasn\u2019t emergency support.<\/p>\n
It was lifestyle support.<\/p>\n
More than that, it was image support.<\/p>\n
They wanted me to finance the appearance they believed they deserved.<\/p>\n
I looked at my husband.<\/p>\n
I still gave him one last chance to understand what was happening.<\/p>\n
He sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t start. My mom\u2019s only asking for what\u2019s fair.\u201d<\/p>\n
Fair.<\/p>\n
That word landed harder than Bonnie\u2019s demand.<\/p>\n
Fair meant he had accepted their premise.<\/p>\n
Fair meant the money was not mine to choose to give.<\/p>\n
Fair meant they believed they were entitled to it.<\/p>\n
So I stopped defending myself emotionally and asked for transparency instead.<\/p>\n
If the money was for medication, I wanted prescriptions.<\/p>\n
If it was for Mason, I wanted them to say it was for Mason.<\/p>\n
If it was being spent on handbags, manicures, dinners, or anything else, I wanted them to stop calling it a family obligation.<\/p>\n
It was a simple request.<\/p>\n
It also threatened the entire system.<\/p>\n
Systems built on vague explanations hate itemized questions.<\/p>\n
Bonnie\u2019s face hardened.<\/p>\n
She accused me of thinking I was better than them because I made good money.<\/p>\n
I pushed back my chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not an ATM.\u201d<\/p>\n
My husband\u2019s chair scraped against the floor.<\/p>\n
He told me to apologize to his mother.<\/p>\n
I refused.<\/p>\n
Then he slapped me.<\/p>\n
It happened so quickly that my body understood it before my mind did.<\/p>\n
My shoulder hit the wall.<\/p>\n
Harold whispered my husband\u2019s name.<\/p>\n
That was all he did.<\/p>\n
Bonnie stayed seated.<\/p>\n
Then she said something I don\u2019t think I will ever forget.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cGood. She needs to learn. If you don\u2019t put her in her place now, she\u2019ll walk all over us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Us.<\/p>\n
Not him.<\/p>\n
Us.<\/p>\n
In one word, she made the structure visible.<\/p>\n
My husband hadn\u2019t simply lost his temper in isolation.<\/p>\n
His mother treated what he had done as enforcement on behalf of the family.<\/p>\n
I stared at him and asked whether he had really just hit me.<\/p>\n
His jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you\u2019re still talking back.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then he hit me again.<\/p>\n
I fell.<\/p>\n
My purse opened when it hit the floor.<\/p>\n
My things scattered under the table.<\/p>\n
My lipstick rolled away.<\/p>\n
Gemma picked it up.<\/p>\n
She told me to apologize to Bonnie.<\/p>\n
Then she added, softly, \u201cSmart women know when to endure.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the room I had been financing.<\/p>\n
One man had hit me.<\/p>\n
One woman had encouraged him.<\/p>\n
One man had barely protested.<\/p>\n
Another had treated my income like a joke.<\/p>\n
And one woman was explaining that intelligence meant accepting humiliation quietly.<\/p>\n
Nobody reached down to help me.<\/p>\n
They waited for me to surrender.<\/p>\n
Instead, I reached for my phone.<\/p>\n
By the time the call ended, the dinner had become something else entirely.<\/p>\n
Not because my lawyer had magically solved anything in one conversation.<\/p>\n
Nothing works that way.<\/p>\n
What changed was that I stopped treating their version of events as the default version.<\/p>\n
I was asked to preserve what I had.<\/p>\n
So I did.<\/p>\n
Transfer confirmations.<\/p>\n
Bank records.<\/p>\n
Messages.<\/p>\n
Dates.<\/p>\n
Amounts.<\/p>\n
Descriptions.<\/p>\n
Promises about what certain payments were supposedly for.<\/p>\n
The more I collected, the less emotional the situation became.<\/p>\n
That surprised me.<\/p>\n
I expected looking at the records to make me furious.<\/p>\n
Instead, it made me precise.<\/p>\n
The $10,000 monthly transfers formed a rhythm across the years.<\/p>\n
Around them were extra requests and explanations.<\/p>\n
Medical needs.<\/p>\n
Bills.<\/p>\n
Insurance.<\/p>\n
Mason\u2019s recurring crises.<\/p>\n
Purchases that somehow became urgent after the fact.<\/p>\n
What had felt chaotic while I was living through it looked different when arranged chronologically.<\/p>\n
Patterns are hard to see when you\u2019re standing inside them.<\/p>\n
On paper, they become harder to excuse.<\/p>\n
There were messages where I had asked whether a payment was enough and received reassurance that it was.<\/p>\n
Later, those same amounts were described as if they had always been inadequate.<\/p>\n
There were requests presented as temporary that quietly became permanent.<\/p>\n
There were expenses framed as necessary that sat beside comments about appearances, outings, and things no one truly needed.<\/p>\n
The audit didn\u2019t need dramatic accusations to become uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
The numbers were enough.<\/p>\n
That was the part Bonnie had never respected.<\/p>\n
She thought money was power because she could pressure me into sending it.<\/p>\n
She never considered that money also creates records.<\/p>\n
And records remember differently than families do.<\/p>\n
People revise conversations.<\/p>\n
People insist they never said something.<\/p>\n
People claim a payment meant something different.<\/p>\n
People call a pattern generosity when they benefit from it and selfishness when it ends.<\/p>\n
A transfer record doesn\u2019t care about any of that.<\/p>\n
It has an amount.<\/p>\n
It has a date.<\/p>\n
It has a destination.<\/p>\n
Once those pieces were compared with the explanations I had been given, questions appeared naturally.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t have to manufacture them.<\/p>\n
My lawyer didn\u2019t have to tell me how to feel.<\/p>\n
The records did something more useful.<\/p>\n
They forced me to separate facts from family pressure.<\/p>\n
One fact was unavoidable: I had been sending $10,000 every month for five years.<\/p>\n
That alone amounted to a level of support no one at that dinner table had the right to describe as \u201cnothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another fact was even more personal.<\/p>\n
When I finally asked for transparency instead of obedience, my husband answered with violence.<\/p>\n
The money and the slap were not the same issue.<\/p>\n
But that night showed how connected they had become in my marriage.<\/p>\n
As long as I paid without asking questions, I was treated as useful.<\/p>\n
The second I asked where the money went, I became disobedient.<\/p>\n
The second I said no, I became someone he believed he could punish.<\/p>\n
That realization hurt more than Bonnie\u2019s insults.<\/p>\n
I had spent years trying to prove that I cared about his family.<\/p>\n
No amount had ever been enough to prove it permanently.<\/p>\n
There was always another test.<\/p>\n
Another request.<\/p>\n
Another reason a good wife would agree.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s how an obligation with no defined limit works.<\/p>\n
You can never complete it.<\/p>\n
I started reading older messages differently.<\/p>\n
Bonnie\u2019s gratitude had often been followed quickly by another request.<\/p>\n
Mason\u2019s emergencies rarely produced any lasting change in his behavior.<\/p>\n
Gemma\u2019s needs had a way of becoming family needs whenever they were expensive.<\/p>\n
Harold, who seemed the least aggressive of them, had still accepted years of support without challenging the way the others spoke to me.<\/p>\n
And my husband had consistently positioned himself between me and accountability.<\/p>\n
Whenever I wanted detail, he wanted peace.<\/p>\n
Whenever I wanted limits, he wanted understanding.<\/p>\n
Whenever his family wanted money, he wanted speed.<\/p>\n
The first time I had thought those were separate habits.<\/p>\n
The audit made them look connected.<\/p>\n
Then we reached the transaction.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t dramatic on the page.<\/p>\n
That was what made it unsettling.<\/p>\n
It sat among years of familiar numbers, old enough to have disappeared into the routine of giving.<\/p>\n
I recognized the date.<\/p>\n
I recognized the amount.<\/p>\n
I even recognized the explanation I had been given at the time.<\/p>\n
But when that transfer was compared with the surrounding records and the way the payment had later been described, the story attached to it no longer fit as neatly as everyone had assumed.<\/p>\n
I went back through my messages.<\/p>\n
Then I checked the confirmation again.<\/p>\n
Then I checked the dates around it.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t looking for revenge.<\/p>\n
I wanted to know whether I was misunderstanding something.<\/p>\n
For years, that had been my reflex whenever something in the family didn\u2019t make sense.<\/p>\n
Maybe I had heard it wrong.<\/p>\n
Maybe I was being too rigid.<\/p>\n
Maybe there had been another expense.<\/p>\n
Maybe someone forgot to tell me.<\/p>\n
But the more carefully I looked, the less willing I was to explain the inconsistency away for them.<\/p>\n
That was new.<\/p>\n
I had spent years filling in gaps with generosity.<\/p>\n
Now I was leaving the gaps where they were and asking the people who benefited from them to explain.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The old transaction mattered because it challenged the assumption beneath everything else: that the family could define what my money had been used for and I would accept the explanation without checking.<\/p>\n
Once that assumption disappeared, every later demand looked different.<\/p>\n
Especially Bonnie\u2019s $15,000 announcement.<\/p>\n
She had spoken with the confidence of someone certain the system would continue.<\/p>\n
She believed the next month\u2019s transfer was already hers.<\/p>\n
My husband believed the same thing.<\/p>\n
That was why he reacted so violently to the word no.<\/p>\n
But an expected payment is not the same thing as an owned payment.<\/p>\n
That distinction became the first boundary I could actually enforce.<\/p>\n
I did not need to convince Bonnie that I was generous.<\/p>\n
I did not need Mason to respect my work.<\/p>\n
I did not need Gemma to understand why a handbag was not an emergency.<\/p>\n
I did not need Harold to suddenly become brave.<\/p>\n
And after what happened at that table, I was no longer interested in debating with my husband about whether his mother\u2019s demands were fair.<\/p>\n
The records had moved the question somewhere else.<\/p>\n
What had I agreed to?<\/p>\n
What had actually happened?<\/p>\n
What could be documented?<\/p>\n
What could be stopped?<\/p>\n
Those were questions with answers.<\/p>\n
They were also questions that didn\u2019t require anyone\u2019s permission.<\/p>\n
The family had spent years making my financial support feel emotional, personal, and impossible to separate from loyalty.<\/p>\n
The audit stripped away that fog.<\/p>\n
A bill was a bill.<\/p>\n
A transfer was a transfer.<\/p>\n
A request was a request.<\/p>\n
A demand was a demand.<\/p>\n
And a slap was a slap.<\/p>\n
Calling something family did not change its nature.<\/p>\n
That was the biggest discovery of all.<\/p>\n
Not the amount of money.<\/p>\n
Not even the forgotten transaction.<\/p>\n
The discovery was that I had been trained to interpret every boundary as cruelty toward them while ignoring the cruelty required to keep me from setting one.<\/p>\n
For the first time in five years, I could see the arrangement from outside it.<\/p>\n
Bonnie had wanted another $5,000 a month.<\/p>\n
She thought the argument was about whether she deserved $15,000 instead of $10,000.<\/p>\n
Mason thought the question was whether I could afford it.<\/p>\n
Gemma thought the question was whether the family could maintain the appearance she wanted.<\/p>\n
My husband thought the question was whether I would obey him in front of his mother.<\/p>\n
They were all wrong.<\/p>\n
The real question was whether they still had the authority to decide what happened to my money.<\/p>\n
And once I asked it that way, the answer was simple.<\/p>\n
No.<\/p>\n
Not anymore.<\/p>\n
That didn\u2019t erase five years.<\/p>\n
It didn\u2019t put the money back.<\/p>\n
It didn\u2019t undo the moment my shoulder hit the wall or the second blow that sent me to the floor.<\/p>\n
It didn\u2019t transform the people around that table into people willing to protect me.<\/p>\n
What it did was end my confusion about them.<\/p>\n
There is a particular kind of grief in realizing that people accepted your help without respecting the person providing it.<\/p>\n
For a long time, I had mistaken dependence for closeness.<\/p>\n
They needed me, so I assumed I mattered to them.<\/p>\n
That dinner taught me the difference.<\/p>\n
When I stopped being useful in the exact way they wanted, their concern was not for me.<\/p>\n
It was for the system I was threatening to interrupt.<\/p>\n
My lawyer had asked whether I had the records.<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
But by the end of the review, I understood that the most important record wasn\u2019t hidden in a bank statement.<\/p>\n
It was the memory of that table.<\/p>\n
Bonnie demanding more.<\/p>\n
Mason laughing.<\/p>\n
Gemma explaining endurance.<\/p>\n
Harold looking away.<\/p>\n
My husband raising his hand because I said no.<\/p>\n
No spreadsheet could make that scene less clear.<\/p>\n
The audit simply removed the last excuses surrounding it.<\/p>\n
And that old transaction\u2014the one buried inside years of support\u2014became the point where their version of the family\u2019s finances finally stopped being the only version that mattered.<\/p>\n
For years, everyone had treated my money like a shared resource and my questions like a personal attack.<\/p>\n
Now every transfer had to stand on its own facts.<\/p>\n
No guilt.<\/p>\n
No speeches about last names.<\/p>\n
No claims that appearances were obligations.<\/p>\n
No assumption that because I had paid before, I would pay forever.<\/p>\n
The ATM comparison I made from the floor had started as anger.<\/p>\n
Later, it felt almost painfully accurate.<\/p>\n
An ATM is useful because people expect it to provide money without asking why they want it.<\/p>\n
They insert a card, enter a code, and expect the machine to cooperate.<\/p>\n
My husband\u2019s family had become comfortable treating me the same way.<\/p>\n
The difference was that I was never a machine.<\/p>\n
I was a person who had been saying yes.<\/p>\n
And a person who can say yes can also say no.<\/p>\n
That was the part they had forgotten.<\/p>\n
By the time the financial records were organized, the $5,000 increase Bonnie demanded almost seemed beside the point.<\/p>\n
She had wanted more money.<\/p>\n
Instead, her demand forced me to examine all the money that had already gone out.<\/p>\n
My husband had wanted to silence me.<\/p>\n
Instead, hitting me ended the silence that had protected the arrangement for years.<\/p>\n
They believed the dinner would teach me my place.<\/p>\n
It did.<\/p>\n
Just not the place they intended.<\/p>\n
My place was not on the floor apologizing.<\/p>\n
It was not at a table where my income was discussed like family property.<\/p>\n
It was not inside a financial arrangement that could survive only as long as I wasn\u2019t allowed to ask questions.<\/p>\n
And it definitely was not behind a locked PIN that everyone else believed they knew.<\/p>\n
The old transfer still needed to be followed through the records carefully, and I wasn\u2019t going to make claims the documents couldn\u2019t support.<\/p>\n
That mattered to me.<\/p>\n
For once, I didn\u2019t want exaggeration.<\/p>\n
I wanted accuracy.<\/p>\n
Because accuracy was enough.<\/p>\n
The family had spent years depending on confusion, obligation, and my willingness to give them the benefit of the doubt.<\/p>\n
The audit replaced all three with dates, amounts, and questions they could no longer answer for me.<\/p>\n
That was how their control began to collapse.<\/p>\n
Not with one dramatic speech.<\/p>\n
Not with revenge.<\/p>\n
Not with me becoming colder than they were.<\/p>\n
It began when I stopped paying for peace and started requiring the truth.<\/p>\n
And the first thing the truth showed me was something I should have understood long before that dinner:<\/p>\n
Generosity given freely is love.<\/p>\n
Generosity demanded through fear is something else entirely.<\/p>\n
For five years, I had kept the transfers moving because I thought I was holding a family together.<\/p>\n
That night, sitting on the floor with blood on my lip and my phone in my hand, I finally understood what I had actually been holding together.<\/p>\n
A system.<\/p>\n
One that worked beautifully for everyone except me.<\/p>\n
Bonnie wanted another deposit.<\/p>\n
My husband wanted an apology.<\/p>\n
The rest of them wanted the evening to return to normal.<\/p>\n
I gave them none of those things.<\/p>\n
I gave my lawyer the records instead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When the records were finally lined up, one old transfer surfaced\u2014one the family had apparently stopped thinking about, yet it was enough to threaten the control they believed they still … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":37271,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,4,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-44279","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/44279","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=44279"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/44279\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":44281,"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/44279\/revisions\/44281"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/37271"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=44279"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=44279"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingdairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=44279"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}