{"id":14013,"date":"2026-04-01T01:06:08","date_gmt":"2026-04-01T01:06:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013"},"modified":"2026-04-01T01:06:08","modified_gmt":"2026-04-01T01:06:08","slug":"for-five-years-i-told-myself-the-same-lie-tomorrow-will-be-different-it-never-was-every-day-the-bruises-got-darker-and-his-voice-got-colder-you-belong-to-me-you","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013","title":{"rendered":"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever."},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n

For five years, I told myself the same lie every morning: Tomorrow will be different.<\/em> My name is Ethan Carter, and by the time I turned twenty-seven, I had become an expert at hiding bruises. Long sleeves in the summer. Excuses about falling down stairs. A laugh that sounded normal enough to stop questions before they started. The truth was uglier. I lived with Ryan Holloway, a man who knew exactly how to keep me small. In public, he was calm, charming, and generous. At home, his voice turned cold as metal. \u201cYou belong to me,\u201d he liked to say, gripping my jaw hard enough to leave marks. \u201cYou\u2019re never leaving.\u201d<\/p>\n

I met Ryan when I was twenty-two, broke, and desperate for stability. He offered me a place to stay after I lost my apartment, then slowly made sure I depended on him for everything. First, he convinced me to quit a job he said was beneath me. Then he took control of the bills, my phone plan, my car keys, and eventually my bank account. By the time I realized what was happening, I had nowhere to go and no one left who still called. He made sure of that too.<\/p>\n

The only break in that routine came every Thursday evening when I worked part-time stocking shelves at a neighborhood grocery store. Ryan allowed it because the manager paid cash and because he liked reminding me that every dollar I earned still ended up in his hands. That was where I met Margaret Hale. She was in her early sixties, silver-haired, sharp-eyed, and always dressed neatly, even when buying canned soup and cat food. People in the store knew her as the widow who had lost her husband, Daniel, the year before. She spoke softly, but there was something steady about her that made people listen.<\/p>\n

At first, she only asked simple questions. \u201cAre you doing all right, sweetheart?\u201d \u201cThat bruise looks painful.\u201d I always lied. I always smiled. But Margaret looked at me like she could see the truth sitting just under my skin. One Thursday, she slipped me a folded receipt with a phone number on the back. \u201cIf you ever need help,\u201d she said quietly, \u201ccall me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I hid that receipt in my shoe for three weeks before Ryan found it. That night, he tore apart the apartment, accused me of trying to betray him, and hit me harder than he ever had before. I could barely stand the next day, but I still showed up to work. Margaret saw my split lip, went silent for a long moment, then asked where I lived. I told her no. I told her to stay out of it. I told her she didn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n

She leaned closer, her eyes colder than I had ever seen them, and said, \u201cEthan, I understand more than you think.\u201d<\/p>\n

That night, Ryan dragged me by the arm across the kitchen floor because dinner was late. The front door was unlocked. I heard it swing open. Then I heard Margaret\u2019s voice cut through the apartment like a blade.<\/p>\n

\u201cTouch him again,\u201d she said, staring Ryan straight in the eye, \u201cand you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n

Part 2<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ryan froze, still gripping my wrist. For a second, the room went completely still. Margaret stood in the doorway wearing a dark coat, her jaw set, one hand clutching her purse like she had walked in with a purpose and no fear at all. Ryan recovered first. He laughed, low and mean, and let go of me just long enough to step toward her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou need to get out of my house,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Margaret didn\u2019t move. \u201cThis apartment isn\u2019t in your name, Ryan.\u201d<\/p>\n

That caught his attention. Mine too.<\/p>\n

He narrowed his eyes. \u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n

Margaret reached into her purse and pulled out a thick envelope. \u201cI\u2019m talking about Daniel Hale. My husband.\u201d Her voice stayed steady, but the pain underneath it was obvious. \u201cThe same Daniel who owned this building through Hale Property Group. The same Daniel who spent two years trying to figure out why money was disappearing from his accounts before he died.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ryan\u2019s face changed. It was small, but I saw it. The smugness slipped for one second.<\/p>\n

Margaret stepped inside and shut the door behind her. \u201cAfter Daniel passed, I found files he never finished organizing. Tenant records. Shell companies. Transfers. Your name was everywhere.\u201d She looked at Ryan like she had been waiting for this moment. \u201cYou were stealing from him, and when he got close to proving it, you vanished. Then I started seeing you again. Different city. Different victims. Same pattern.\u201d<\/p>\n

My head spun. Ryan had told me he worked in property management years ago, but every detail of his past was always vague, always shifting. I had learned not to ask questions because questions led to punishment. Now, standing in our kitchen, Margaret was ripping open a version of him I had never fully understood.<\/p>\n

Ryan sneered. \u201cYou have no proof.\u201d<\/p>\n

Margaret gave a humorless smile. \u201cI already handed it to the police.\u201d<\/p>\n

He lunged toward her. I don\u2019t know if he meant to grab the envelope or silence her, but instinct took over before fear could. I stepped between them, and Ryan shoved me hard into the counter. My ribs exploded with pain. Margaret didn\u2019t scream. She pulled out her phone and pressed a button.<\/p>\n

A dispatcher\u2019s voice filled the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m at 214 West Mercer,\u201d Margaret said calmly. \u201cThe man I reported is attacking again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ryan looked from her phone to me, then toward the back door. He was calculating, desperate now, stripped of the control he had worn like a second skin. For the first time in five years, I saw panic on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think they\u2019ll believe you?\u201d he snapped at me. \u201cYou\u2019ve got nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

But Margaret had already thought of that too. She turned to me, softer now, and said, \u201cEthan, the hospital records. The photos. The cashier camera footage from the store parking lot. I saved everything because I knew one day you might be ready.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at her. \u201cWhy would you do that for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her eyes filled, just for a second. \u201cBecause you\u2019re not the first person he\u2019s done this to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer.<\/p>\n

Ryan backed toward the door, breathing hard, then pointed at me with a shaking hand. \u201cIf I go down, you\u2019re coming with me. Tell them what happened to Claire.\u201d<\/p>\n

The name hit the room like a gunshot.<\/p>\n

I had never heard it before.<\/p>\n

Margaret went pale.<\/p>\n

And Ryan smiled.<\/p>\n

\n

Part 3<\/strong><\/p>\n

The police arrived before Ryan could say anything else. Two officers forced him to the floor while a third separated Margaret and me in the hallway. I was shaking so badly I could barely answer basic questions. My ribs hurt every time I breathed, and Ryan\u2019s words kept echoing in my head. Tell them what happened to Claire.<\/em> I didn\u2019t know who Claire was, but Margaret did. I saw it on her face the second the name came out of his mouth.<\/p>\n

At the hospital, they documented everything: the bruises along my back, the fractured rib, the older injuries in different stages of healing. A detective named Laura Bennett took my statement just before sunrise. She was direct but kind, the kind of person who made you feel safer by refusing to pretend things weren\u2019t ugly. When I told her about Ryan\u2019s threat and the name Claire, she wrote it down carefully and asked if I had ever seen any photographs, documents, or messages connected to that name. I said no.<\/p>\n

Margaret visited me later that afternoon with coffee I was too nauseous to drink. She looked like she had aged ten years overnight. For a long time, she said nothing. Then she told me the truth.<\/p>\n

Claire Hale was her daughter.<\/p>\n

Ten years earlier, Claire had dated Ryan for less than a year. He had been controlling, then violent. Claire tried to leave. A week later, her car went off a rural road late at night. The case was ruled an accident because there was no clear evidence otherwise. Daniel never believed that story. He hired private investigators, dug into Ryan\u2019s finances, and started connecting him to fraud, coercion, and abuse involving other women and men in two states. Before Daniel could turn everything over, he suffered a fatal heart attack. Margaret spent the next year sorting through his records and discovered he had been closer to the truth than anyone knew.<\/p>\n

Ryan had targeted me partly by chance, but not entirely. The apartment building, the cash job nearby, the systems he used to isolate me\u2014they were built on habits he had perfected over years. Margaret had recognized his name on a tenant file, then recognized me as the latest person trapped in his orbit. She didn\u2019t step into my life because she was reckless. She stepped in because she had been waiting for proof strong enough to finish what her husband started.<\/p>\n

Over the next several months, the case against Ryan grew fast. Financial crimes. Assault. Coercive control. Witness tampering. Detective Bennett found old reports buried in other counties, and once one victim spoke, others followed. I testified with my hands trembling so hard I had to lock them together in my lap. Margaret sat in the front row every day, never looking away. When the verdict came back guilty on every major count, I cried so hard I could barely stand. Not because it erased five years. Nothing can do that. But because for the first time, the future didn\u2019t feel like a threat.<\/p>\n

I moved into a small apartment across town, got a full-time job at the store, and started therapy. Some mornings are still hard. Some nights I still wake up bracing for footsteps that never come. Healing is slower than people think. It\u2019s not a movie ending. It\u2019s rent checks, support groups, learning how to choose your own groceries without fear, and answering your phone without panic. It\u2019s ordinary, which makes it precious.<\/p>\n

Margaret and I still have dinner every Sunday. She says I helped bring her daughter justice. I tell her she saved my life. The truth is, we carried each other out of different kinds of grief.<\/p>\n

And if there\u2019s one thing I\u2019ve learned, it\u2019s this: silence protects the wrong person every single time. So if this story hit you hard, share it with someone who needs the reminder that leaving is possible, help can be real, and the end of fear can start with one person finally saying, No more.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For five years, I told myself the same lie every morning: Tomorrow will be different. My name is Ethan Carter, and by the time I turned twenty-seven, I had become an expert at hiding bruises. Long sleeves in the summer. Excuses about falling down stairs. A laugh that sounded normal enough to stop questions before […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":14028,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14013","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-life-new"],"yoast_head":"\nFor five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever. - True Stories<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever. - True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"For five years, I told myself the same lie every morning: Tomorrow will be different. My name is Ethan Carter, and by the time I turned twenty-seven, I had become an expert at hiding bruises. Long sleeves in the summer. Excuses about falling down stairs. A laugh that sounded normal enough to stop questions before […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-04-01T01:06:08+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"558\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"1000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"true love\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"true love\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"8 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013\",\"name\":\"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever. - True Stories\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-04-01T01:06:08+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg\",\"width\":558,\"height\":1000},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever.\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/\",\"name\":\"True Stories\",\"description\":\"\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e\",\"name\":\"true love\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"true love\"},\"sameAs\":[\"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\"],\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=2\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever. - True Stories","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever. - True Stories","og_description":"For five years, I told myself the same lie every morning: Tomorrow will be different. My name is Ethan Carter, and by the time I turned twenty-seven, I had become an expert at hiding bruises. Long sleeves in the summer. Excuses about falling down stairs. A laugh that sounded normal enough to stop questions before […]","og_url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013","og_site_name":"True Stories","article_published_time":"2026-04-01T01:06:08+00:00","og_image":[{"width":558,"height":1000,"url":"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"true love","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"true love","Est. reading time":"8 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013","name":"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever. - True Stories","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg","datePublished":"2026-04-01T01:06:08+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/A_tense_cinematic_202604010804.jpg","width":558,"height":1000},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=14013#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"For five years, I told myself the same lie: \u201cTomorrow will be different.\u201d It never was. Every day, the bruises got darker, and his voice got colder: \u201cYou belong to me. You\u2019re never leaving.\u201d Then one night, a heartbroken widow stepped into my nightmare, looked him dead in the eye, and said, \u201cTouch him again\u2026 and you\u2019ll regret surviving tonight.\u201d I thought she was just angry. I didn\u2019t know she was about to destroy everything he built \u2014 and reveal a secret that would change my life forever."}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/","name":"True Stories","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e","name":"true love","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"true love"},"sameAs":["http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org"],"url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=2"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14013","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14013"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14013\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14029,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14013\/revisions\/14029"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/14028"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14013"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14013"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14013"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}