We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.<\/em><\/p>\nI read it three times in the parking lot of the hardware store, standing beside a cart full of paint rollers and cabinet hinges I\u2019d paid for that morning. My hands started shaking so hard I dropped my keys. Across the street, my house sat under the yellow glow of the porch light I installed myself five years earlier, when it was still half-rotted and leaning to one side like it had given up on life.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m Ethan Carter, thirty-two, a general contractor in Columbus, Ohio. That house wasn\u2019t just where I lived. It was the result of ten years of skipped vacations, double shifts, and ramen dinners. When my dad lost his job and my parents were drowning in debt, I bought the old foreclosure with money I\u2019d saved and took out the loan in my name. My credit, my down payment, my repairs, my back. But because I was working seventy-hour weeks during the renovation, I let my parents move in \u201ctemporarily\u201d to help watch the place.<\/p>\n
Temporary stretched into years.<\/p>\n
At first, it sounded reasonable. Dad said, \u201cYou\u2019ve got the upstairs. We\u2019ve got the guest room. We\u2019re family. Why make it complicated?\u201d<\/p>\n
Then little things started changing. My mail disappeared from the kitchen counter. Mom rearranged the pantry and said I was \u201cacting like a tenant.\u201d Dad started introducing the place as \u201cour home\u201d to neighbors. When I corrected him, he laughed it off. \u201cRelax, son. No one\u2019s stealing your castle.\u201d<\/p>\n
But they were testing the edges.<\/p>\n
The last six months got worse after my younger sister, Chloe, moved back in after her divorce. Suddenly I was the selfish one for wanting privacy in the home I paid for. Every conversation became a guilt trip. Every boundary turned into a family betrayal. Two weeks ago, Dad looked me straight in the face and said, \u201cIf it wasn\u2019t for us, you never would\u2019ve kept this place standing while you worked. You owe us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Owe them?<\/p>\n
I parked across the street and stared at the front door. My duffel bag was still inside. My clothes. My tools. My laptop. The framed photo of me and my grandfather on the day I got the keys. Through the front window, I saw Dad\u2019s shadow move past the curtains. Then my phone buzzed again.<\/p>\n
This time it was Dad.<\/p>\n
Don\u2019t cause a scene. This is our house now.<\/em><\/p>\nI looked down at the folded envelope in my hand\u2014the one I had picked up from my attorney an hour earlier\u2014and for the first time all night, I stopped shaking.<\/p>\n
Because my father had just made the one mistake he could never take back.<\/p>\n
Three weeks earlier, I\u2019d started preparing for exactly this moment.<\/p>\n
Not because I wanted to believe my parents would lock me out, but because I\u2019d finally stopped lying to myself about who they had become. The warning sign came when I found a property tax notice opened and hidden in my mother\u2019s dresser drawer. She\u2019d already called the county once, pretending to be me. After that, I met with a real estate attorney named Laura Bennett.<\/p>\n
I still remember how she looked over her glasses and asked, \u201cMr. Carter, who is on the deed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is on the mortgage?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho paid for the renovation?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did. I have the invoices, permits, bank records, even before-and-after inspections.\u201d<\/p>\n
Laura leaned back and said the sentence that changed everything: \u201cThen this is not a family misunderstanding. This is an occupancy problem with a paper trail.\u201d<\/p>\n
That paper trail was the secret in the envelope.<\/p>\n
Inside were certified copies of the deed, the mortgage, permit history, utility statements in my name, and, most important, a formal notice to vacate Laura had prepared but told me not to serve unless things escalated. I had hoped I\u2019d never need it. But now I was standing across from my own house while my father texted me like a landlord in a bad movie.<\/p>\n
I called Laura from the curb. She answered on the second ring.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey changed the locks,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t gasp. She didn\u2019t say she was surprised. She just asked, \u201cDo you feel safe?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood. Don\u2019t go in. I\u2019m emailing you the police-facing summary now. Call the non-emergency line and request a civil standby. Then we proceed tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ten minutes later, two officers pulled up. Dad opened the door before they even knocked, all bluster and confidence. \u201cThis is a private family matter,\u201d he said loudly, glancing at me like he\u2019d already won.<\/p>\n
One of the officers asked for proof of ownership.<\/p>\n
Dad pointed at himself. \u201cI live here.\u201d<\/p>\n
The officer didn\u2019t even blink. \u201cThat wasn\u2019t the question.\u201d<\/p>\n
I handed over the certified documents with fingers that were suddenly steady. The officer read the deed, checked my license, then looked at my father with a completely different expression than the one Dad had expected.<\/p>\n
\u201cSir,\u201d he said, \u201cthis property belongs to Mr. Carter.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother appeared behind him in her house slippers, face pale. \u201cThat can\u2019t be right,\u201d she whispered. \u201cWe\u2019ve lived here for years.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d the officer said, \u201cbut living here and owning it are not the same thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad\u2019s jaw tightened. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t do this to family.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the moment something in me went cold. Not angry. Not loud. Cold.<\/p>\n
I stepped forward and said, \u201cYou changed the locks on me. You told me I had no home. You made this legal the second you tried to take what wasn\u2019t yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
For the first time all night, Dad looked uncertain. Chloe came into the hallway behind them, clutching her phone, eyes wide and wet. Mom started crying. The neighbors\u2019 porch lights flicked on one by one.<\/p>\n
And then Dad did the dumbest thing possible.<\/p>\n
He looked right at the officer and said, \u201cFine. We\u2019ll see what the judge thinks about the improvements we made with our labor.\u201d<\/p>\n
Laura, who had just arrived and heard every word, stepped onto the sidewalk beside me and said, \u201cPerfect. Thank you for admitting occupancy and contest on record.\u201d<\/p>\n
The silence after that hit harder than any shout could have.<\/p>\n
The next morning, the story got even uglier\u2014and clearer.<\/p>\n
Laura filed for immediate possession and documented the lockout, Dad\u2019s statements, and the evidence that my mail, work laptop, and personal tools had been withheld. Because I had ownership records, insurance in my name, and proof that they had excluded me from the property, the court moved faster than my parents expected. They thought this would drag on forever. It didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
For a week, the house felt like a war zone with quiet weapons. My parents stopped speaking to me except through bitter texts. Chloe tried once, catching me in the driveway with her arms wrapped around herself against the cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou really want to throw Mom and Dad out?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
I set down the toolbox in my hand. \u201cNo. I wanted them to act like family. They chose to act like squatters.\u201d<\/p>\n
She flinched, but she knew I was right.<\/p>\n
The hearing lasted less than an hour. Dad arrived in his only suit, still carrying that same stubborn look, like authority alone could rewrite paperwork. Mom cried before we even sat down. Their lawyer tried to argue there had been an implied family agreement, shared maintenance, verbal promises. But every claim ran headfirst into documents: purchase contract, bank transfers, permit fees, insurance payments, photographs, contractor receipts, utility bills. I hadn\u2019t just built the house. I had documented every nail.<\/p>\n
Then the judge asked my father one question: \u201cDid you change the locks without the owner\u2019s permission?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad hesitated. For a second, I thought he might finally tell the truth cleanly.<\/p>\n
Instead, he said, \u201cWe did what we had to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was it.<\/p>\n
The order came down that afternoon. I regained full possession. They were given a short deadline to remove their things. No ownership claim. No leverage. No more pretending. When we walked out of the courthouse, Mom reached for my arm and whispered, \u201cHow could you do this to us?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her\u2014really looked at her\u2014and felt the grief more than the anger. \u201cYou texted me that I had no home,\u201d I said. \u201cYou did this first.\u201d<\/p>\n
They moved into a rental on the other side of town. Chloe apologized two days later and brought back the photo of me and Grandpa she\u2019d rescued from the hall closet. Dad never apologized. Maybe he never will. Some people would rather lose everything than admit they crossed the line.<\/p>\n
I changed the locks again that weekend. This time, legally and peacefully. Then I stood alone in the kitchen I\u2019d rebuilt with my own hands, listening to the kind of silence that doesn\u2019t feel empty anymore. It feels earned.<\/p>\n
Family can help build you, but they can also feel entitled to what you create. That\u2019s the part people don\u2019t like saying out loud. I do now.<\/p>\n
So let me ask you this: if the people closest to you mistook your kindness for weakness, would you still call it betrayal\u2014or finally call it what it is? If this story hit home, tell me what you think, because sometimes the hardest part isn\u2019t losing a house. It\u2019s realizing who never believed it was yours to begin with.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Mom texted me at 6:14 p.m. We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore. I read it three times in the parking lot of the hardware store, standing beside a cart full of paint rollers and cabinet hinges I\u2019d paid for that morning. My hands started shaking so hard I dropped my keys. Across […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":19355,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-19350","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-life-new"],"yoast_head":"\n
\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d - 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=19350\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d - True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Mom texted me at 6:14 p.m. We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore. I read it three times in the parking lot of the hardware store, standing beside a cart full of paint rollers and cabinet hinges I\u2019d paid for that morning. My hands started shaking so hard I dropped my keys. Across […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-04-14T02:46:10+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.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=19350\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350\",\"name\":\"\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d - True Stories\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-04-14T02:46:10+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.jpg\",\"width\":558,\"height\":1000},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d\"}]},{\"@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":"\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d - 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=19350","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d - True Stories","og_description":"Mom texted me at 6:14 p.m. We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore. I read it three times in the parking lot of the hardware store, standing beside a cart full of paint rollers and cabinet hinges I\u2019d paid for that morning. My hands started shaking so hard I dropped my keys. Across […]","og_url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350","og_site_name":"True Stories","article_published_time":"2026-04-14T02:46:10+00:00","og_image":[{"width":558,"height":1000,"url":"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.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=19350","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350","name":"\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d - True Stories","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.jpg","datePublished":"2026-04-14T02:46:10+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Mot_cuoc_doi_202604140945-1.jpg","width":558,"height":1000},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=19350#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"\u201cMom texted me, \u2018We changed every lock\u2014you don\u2019t have a home anymore.\u2019 I just stared at the screen, shaking, because the house they thought they\u2019d stolen was the one I built with my youth, my sweat, my sacrifices. They believed locking me out meant they had won. But standing across the street, with one secret still in my hands, I realized they had no idea what was coming next\u2026\u201d"}]},{"@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\/19350","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=19350"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19350\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19358,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19350\/revisions\/19358"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/19355"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=19350"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=19350"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=19350"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}