The Christmas I Almost Didn\u2019t Attend
\nOn Christmas morning, I stood beside my daughter\u2019s crib, fastening the tiny pearl buttons on her cranberry-red dress, and wondered whether I was making a mistake.<\/p>\n
My daughter, Maisie, was eight months old. She had bright blue eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest little smile I had ever seen.<\/p>\n
She was also smaller than most babies her age.<\/p>\n
Maisie had arrived six weeks earlier than expected. Her first three weeks were spent in the neonatal intensive care unit at a hospital in Columbus, Ohio.<\/p>\n
I still remembered sitting beside her incubator, watching the monitors and waiting for the day I could finally bring her home.<\/p>\n
Those weeks had changed me.<\/p>\n
Every ounce she gained felt like a victory. Every peaceful night felt like a gift.<\/p>\n
By Christmas, her pediatrician was delighted with her progress. She was healthy, active, and developing beautifully.<\/p>\n
But my mother, Patricia Whitmore, had never been satisfied with anything that didn\u2019t meet her expectations.<\/p>\n
And unfortunately, that included me.<\/p>\n
Growing up, I learned that my mother\u2019s compliments usually came with conditions.<\/p>\n
If I earned good grades, she wanted better ones. If I wore a pretty dress, she suggested another color. If I accomplished something important, she reminded me of what I could have done differently.<\/p>\n
For thirty-four years, I had learned to smile, change the subject, and keep the peace.<\/p>\n
My husband, Grant, knew that better than anyone.<\/p>\n
That morning, he appeared in the bedroom carrying our diaper bag.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know we don\u2019t have to go,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I glanced at Maisie.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s her first Christmas with the whole family.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd she\u2019s going to have plenty more Christmases. They don\u2019t all have to happen at your mother\u2019s house.\u201d<\/p>\n
I knew he was right.<\/p>\n
Still, I wanted to believe my mother would be different with her granddaughter.<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe that becoming a grandmother might finally teach her the tenderness she had struggled to show me.<\/p>\n
So we packed the car and drove forty minutes to my parents\u2019 home in Dublin, Ohio.<\/p>\n
I had no idea that before dinner was served, I would make a decision that changed our family forever.<\/p>\n
A Beautiful House With an Uncomfortable History<\/p>\n
My parents\u2019 house looked like something from a Christmas magazine.<\/p>\n
White lights framed the windows. A large wreath hung on the front door. Inside, a twelve-foot tree stood beside the fireplace, surrounded by beautifully wrapped presents.<\/p>\n
My mother had always been wonderful at creating the appearance of a perfect family.<\/p>\n
She was less interested in how that family actually felt.<\/p>\n
My older brother, Russell, greeted us at the door with his wife, Bethany, and their two children.<\/p>\n
Bethany immediately reached for Maisie.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at this beautiful girl! I can\u2019t believe how much she\u2019s grown.\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s almost doubled her birth weight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s wonderful. You must be so proud.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a moment, I felt myself relax.<\/p>\n
My father came over to kiss Maisie\u2019s forehead. My nieces admired her dress, and Grant settled beside me on the couch.<\/p>\n
Everything seemed fine.<\/p>\n
Then my mother entered the living room carrying a silver tray of drinks.<\/p>\n
She stopped when she saw Maisie.<\/p>\n
Her smile tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cGoodness, she\u2019s still so little.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s doing really well, Mom. Her doctor is happy with everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother tilted her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I suppose that\u2019s what matters. Although babies her age usually look a little healthier.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bethany shifted uncomfortably.<\/p>\n
I felt the familiar pressure in my chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe is healthy,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
My mother waved a hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m only making an observation. There\u2019s no need to be defensive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she stepped closer and adjusted the bow on Maisie\u2019s head.<\/p>\n
\u201cPoor little thing. She looks so delicate. I always imagined my first granddaughter would be a big, strong baby.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked down at Maisie, who was happily chewing the ear of her stuffed rabbit.<\/p>\n
She had no idea that the woman standing above her was criticizing the very things I had spent eight months celebrating.<\/p>\n
I thought the conversation was over.<\/p>\n
I was wrong.<\/p>\n
The Words That Changed Everything<\/p>\n
My mother turned toward the rest of the family.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know, I told Meredith during her pregnancy that she needed to take better care of herself. But she never did like listening to advice.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, please don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
She continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m just saying that perhaps things would have gone differently if you\u2019d taken my concerns seriously. Then maybe Maisie wouldn\u2019t have arrived so early.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nobody spoke.<\/p>\n
My brother stared at the floor. Bethany\u2019s expression changed. Even my father looked uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
For months, I had quietly wondered whether there was something I could have done differently.<\/p>\n
My doctors had reassured me repeatedly that Maisie\u2019s early arrival wasn\u2019t something I had caused.<\/p>\n
But hearing those words from my own mother brought back every frightening memory from the hospital.<\/p>\n
I remembered going home without my baby.<\/p>\n
I remembered standing beside her hospital bed, wishing I could do more.<\/p>\n
And now my mother was turning those memories into another reason to criticize me.<\/p>\n
Grant stood beside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cPatricia, that\u2019s enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother looked offended.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, honestly. Everyone is so sensitive these days. I\u2019m her grandmother. I\u2019m allowed to be concerned.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something inside me became unexpectedly calm.<\/p>\n
For years, I had believed that being a good daughter meant enduring uncomfortable moments without making a scene.<\/p>\n
But looking at Maisie, I suddenly understood what that silence would eventually teach her.<\/p>\n
One day, she would be old enough to understand her grandmother\u2019s words.<\/p>\n
One day, she might begin wondering whether she was too small, too different, or somehow not good enough.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t control what my mother thought.<\/p>\n
But I could decide what my daughter would grow up hearing.<\/p>\n
I carefully placed Maisie in Grant\u2019s arms.<\/p>\n
Then I walked toward the Christmas tree.<\/p>\n
The Presents I Took Back
\nThere were seven packages beneath the tree with Maisie\u2019s name written on them.<\/p>\n
I picked up the first one.<\/p>\n
Then the second.<\/p>\n
Then the rest.<\/p>\n
My mother watched me with a confused expression.<\/p>\n
\u201cMeredith, what are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t answer until every gift was in my arms.<\/p>\n
Then I turned toward her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re leaving.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed nervously.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous. Dinner isn\u2019t even ready.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is Maisie\u2019s last Christmas in this house.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room became completely still.<\/p>\n
My mother\u2019s face changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou cannot possibly mean that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n
She set her tray down.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re going to take my granddaughter away because I made one harmless comment?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t one comment, Mom. It\u2019s been thirty-four years of comments. Today, you decided my daughter should be next.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes widened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was trying to help you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you need to understand that your version of helping has hurt me for a very long time.\u201d<\/p>\n
My father finally spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cPatricia, perhaps you should apologize.\u201d
\n
\nShe turned toward him.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what? For worrying about my own granddaughter?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grant approached with Maisie.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re going home,\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n
Bethany stepped forward and took several presents from my arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll help you carry these.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother looked around the room, apparently expecting someone to stop us.<\/p>\n
Nobody did.<\/p>\n
As we reached the front door, she called after me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll regret ruining Christmas over something so small!\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned back one final time.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, Maisie was small when she was born. That never made her less deserving of love. I wish you understood the difference.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then I walked outside with my husband and daughter.<\/p>\n
For the first time in my life, I left my mother\u2019s house without apologizing.<\/p>\n
The Christmas We Had at Home
\nI cried during the first ten minutes of our drive.<\/p>\n
Not because I regretted leaving.<\/p>\n
I cried because I couldn\u2019t believe how long it had taken me to do it.<\/p>\n
Grant reached across the center console and held my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m proud of you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
\u201cI ruined her first Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced toward the back seat, where Maisie had already fallen asleep.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at her. Does she seem like someone whose Christmas is ruined?\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed through my tears.<\/p>\n
When we arrived home, Grant brought in the presents while I changed Maisie into her favorite cotton pajamas.<\/p>\n
We ordered dinner from a neighborhood restaurant that was still open, spread a blanket across the living room floor, and watched our daughter discover wrapping paper.<\/p>\n
She seemed far more interested in the ribbons than the toys.<\/p>\n
At one point, Grant placed a little red bow on his head, and Maisie laughed so hard that she fell backward against a pillow.<\/p>\n
I took a picture.<\/p>\n
Looking at it afterward, I realized something.<\/p>\n
Our living room wasn\u2019t perfectly decorated. Dinner hadn\u2019t been homemade. Nobody was wearing matching Christmas sweaters.<\/p>\n
But everyone in that room felt loved.<\/p>\n
It was the most peaceful Christmas I could remember.<\/p>\n
Then my phone began ringing.<\/p>\n
My Mother Expected an Apology
\nBy the following morning, my mother had called eleven times.<\/p>\n
Her messages started with anger.<\/p>\n
She accused me of embarrassing her, upsetting the family, and making an unnecessary scene.<\/p>\n
Then she tried guilt.<\/p>\n
She reminded me how much effort she had put into Christmas dinner and how disappointed my father had been.<\/p>\n
Finally, she wrote:<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen you\u2019re ready to apologize for yesterday, we can discuss putting this behind us.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at the message.<\/p>\n
Then I put my phone down.<\/p>\n
That afternoon, Russell called.<\/p>\n
I expected him to tell me I had overreacted.<\/p>\n
Instead, he sounded unusually serious.<\/p>\n
\u201cMeredith, I owe you an apology.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat up.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor sitting there and saying nothing. Bethany and I talked about it all night. Mom was completely out of line.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt tears forming again.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou really think so?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know so. And honestly, she\u2019s been doing this to you for years. I should have said something sooner.\u201d<\/p>\n
He told me that after we left, Christmas dinner had become painfully uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
Bethany had explained that Maisie\u2019s early birth was not something anyone had the right to blame on me.<\/p>\n
My father had agreed.<\/p>\n
And for the first time, Russell had told our mother that her constant criticism was pushing her family away.<\/p>\n
Apparently, she hadn\u2019t taken it well.<\/p>\n
But something important had changed.<\/p>\n
People were no longer pretending her behavior was harmless.<\/p>\n
The Empty Chair on New Year\u2019s Eve
\nMy parents traditionally hosted a large New Year\u2019s Eve dinner.<\/p>\n
We attended every year.<\/p>\n
This time, I told my father we wouldn\u2019t be coming.<\/p>\n
He sounded disappointed, but he didn\u2019t argue.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand, sweetheart. Your mother needs time to think about what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
On December 31, Grant and I invited Bethany, Russell, and their children to our house for a casual dinner.<\/p>\n
We made pasta, played board games, and let the children stay awake a little later than usual.<\/p>\n
Maisie fell asleep before nine.<\/p>\n
Around ten, my phone rang.<\/p>\n
It was my mother.<\/p>\n
I stepped into the kitchen before answering.<\/p>\n
\u201cMeredith?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice sounded different.<\/p>\n
Tired.<\/p>\n
\u201cHappy New Year, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father says you\u2019re having everyone over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRussell and Bethany are here with the kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo everyone is together except me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, you could have been part of this if you\u2019d treated us differently.\u201d<\/p>\n
She began crying.<\/p>\n
\u201cI miss my granddaughter.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward the living room, where Grant was laughing with my brother.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen please bring her over tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
I took a moment before answering.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Mom. Not yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
She sounded stunned.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re really keeping her from me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m protecting her from the kind of criticism I grew up believing was normal.\u201d<\/p>\n
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n
Then I said something I had needed to say for years.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou had thirty-four years to make me feel like I was enough. I\u2019m not giving you another thirty-four years to make my daughter feel the same way.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother began crying harder.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t hang up angrily.<\/p>\n
I simply told her that I loved her, but love didn\u2019t mean pretending nothing had happened.<\/p>\n
When I returned to the living room, Grant took one look at my face and reached for my hand.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t shaking.<\/p>\n
For once, I felt certain about my decision.<\/p>\n
The Letter That Arrived in April
\nFor the next several months, my mother and I had very little contact.<\/p>\n
My father occasionally visited us alone. Russell and Bethany continued coming over.<\/p>\n
Life moved forward.<\/p>\n
Maisie learned to crawl.<\/p>\n
She grew two tiny teeth.<\/p>\n
She developed a habit of clapping whenever someone entered the room.<\/p>\n
And slowly, I stopped checking my phone every time it rang.<\/p>\n
Then, a week before Maisie\u2019s first birthday, a handwritten letter arrived.<\/p>\n
It was from my mother.
\n
\nI almost left it unopened.<\/p>\n
But that evening, after Maisie was asleep, I sat beside Grant and read it.<\/p>\n
For the first time, my mother didn\u2019t begin by explaining why she was right.<\/p>\n
She admitted that she had criticized me throughout my childhood.<\/p>\n
She acknowledged that her comments about Maisie\u2019s early arrival had been unfair and deeply hurtful.<\/p>\n
She wrote that Russell, Bethany, and my father had helped her understand how often she confused criticism with concern.<\/p>\n
Near the bottom, she had written:<\/p>\n
\u201cI kept telling myself that I was trying to make you stronger. I never considered that I was making you feel smaller. I am sorry I made you question yourself as a mother, especially after everything you went through bringing Maisie home.\u201d<\/p>\n
I read that sentence three times.<\/p>\n
Then I cried.<\/p>\n
Not because everything was suddenly fixed.<\/p>\n
But because, for the first time, my mother had acknowledged something I had spent my whole life trying to explain.<\/p>\n
The letter ended with a request to attend Maisie\u2019s birthday party.<\/p>\n
I thought about it for several days.<\/p>\n
Finally, I called her.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, I appreciate your apology. But I need you to understand something.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnything,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAn apology doesn\u2019t mean everything goes back to normal immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd if you want a relationship with Maisie, you cannot make comments about her body, her size, or things she can\u2019t control. Not now. Not when she\u2019s older.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother was quiet.<\/p>\n
Then she answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand. I want to learn how to do better.\u201d<\/p>\n
I invited her to visit us for a short afternoon the following week, before deciding anything about the party.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t forgiveness without conditions.<\/p>\n
It was a chance for her to demonstrate that she meant what she had written.<\/p>\n
A Different Kind of Birthday Gift
\nMy mother arrived carrying a large gift bag.<\/p>\n
Maisie was sitting on the living room rug, playing with wooden blocks.<\/p>\n
For a moment, Mom simply stood in the doorway watching her.<\/p>\n
Then she looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s beautiful, Meredith.\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited for the familiar addition.<\/p>\n
The comment about her size.<\/p>\n
The suggestion about her clothes.<\/p>\n
The comparison to another child.<\/p>\n
But none came.<\/p>\n
Instead, Mom knelt beside Maisie.<\/p>\n
\u201cHappy almost-birthday, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n
Maisie smiled and offered her a yellow block.<\/p>\n
My mother accepted it as though it were something precious.<\/p>\n
After a few minutes, she handed me the gift bag.<\/p>\n
Inside was a soft blanket, a picture book, and a small envelope.<\/p>\n
The envelope contained a photograph of me as a baby.<\/p>\n
On the back, my mother had written:<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were beautiful then, too. I wish I had told you that more often.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat down beside her.<\/p>\n
For a while, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n
Then I said quietly:<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, Maisie doesn\u2019t need expensive gifts. She needs people who make her feel safe, loved, and accepted exactly as she is.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that now. And I hope you\u2019ll give me time to prove it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t promise that everything would be easy.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t tell her the past no longer mattered.<\/p>\n
But I allowed her to stay for lunch.<\/p>\n
It was a beginning.<\/p>\n
The Christmas That Finally Felt Different
\nBy the following December, Maisie was walking.<\/p>\n
She had grown into a curious, cheerful toddler who loved picture books, blueberries, and dancing whenever music played.<\/p>\n
My mother had spent the year making small but meaningful changes.<\/p>\n
She respected our parenting decisions.<\/p>\n
She stopped offering unsolicited advice.<\/p>\n
And when she occasionally caught herself beginning an unnecessary comment, she corrected herself without expecting me to comfort her.<\/p>\n
Our relationship wasn\u2019t perfect.<\/p>\n
But it was more honest than it had ever been.<\/p>\n
That Christmas, Grant and I decided to host dinner at our house.<\/p>\n
My parents came, along with Russell, Bethany, and their children.<\/p>\n
There was no elaborate seating arrangement.<\/p>\n
No perfectly coordinated decorations.<\/p>\n
Just a crowded dining table, children laughing, and a little girl wearing a red sweater covered in tiny snowflakes.<\/p>\n
After dinner, my mother sat on the rug beside Maisie.<\/p>\n
My daughter handed her a stuffed rabbit.<\/p>\n
\u201cGamma!\u201d she announced proudly.<\/p>\n
My mother laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she looked across the room at me.<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n
Later, while we washed dishes together, she spoke quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you for letting me be here.\u201d<\/p>\n
I handed her a towel.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you for doing the work to make that possible.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish I had understood sooner.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward the living room, where Maisie was trying to put a Santa hat on Grant\u2019s head.<\/p>\n
\u201cMe too, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
And that was enough.<\/p>\n
I used to think a successful Christmas meant keeping everyone happy, even when it meant ignoring my own feelings.<\/p>\n
Now I understood that a peaceful family wasn\u2019t one where nobody ever disagreed.<\/p>\n
It was one where people could be honest, take responsibility, and treat each other with kindness.<\/p>\n
The previous Christmas, I had carried seven presents out of my mother\u2019s house because I refused to let my daughter grow up feeling inadequate.<\/p>\n
This Christmas, I watched that same little girl laugh in a room full of people who were learning to love her without conditions.<\/p>\n
My mother had nearly lost her place in our lives.<\/p>\n
And although I was grateful she had chosen to change, I no longer believed it was my responsibility to protect her from the consequences of her behavior.<\/p>\n
That Christmas night, after everyone had gone home, I found Maisie asleep beneath the blanket my mother had given her for her birthday.<\/p>\n
Grant stood beside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou did something important last year,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
I smiled at our daughter.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think we both did.\u201d<\/p>\n
Because the greatest gift I gave Maisie wasn\u2019t under the Christmas tree.<\/p>\n
It was the promise that she would never have to earn the right to feel loved in her own family.<\/p>\n
And for the first time, I understood that protecting my daughter had also given me the courage to protect the little girl I used to be.<\/p>\n
Ten Lessons About Love, Family, and Protecting Our Children
\n1. A child should never have to grow up believing that love depends on appearance, achievements, or meeting someone else\u2019s expectations, because the most valuable thing a family can offer is the freedom to be accepted exactly as they are.<\/p>\n
2. Becoming a parent often changes how we understand our own childhood, revealing patterns we once considered normal and giving us the opportunity to create a healthier, kinder environment for the next generation.<\/p>\n
3. Respecting our parents does not require accepting every hurtful comment they make, and setting reasonable boundaries can be an expression of self-respect rather than a rejection of family.<\/p>\n
4. The words adults speak around children matter more than we sometimes realize, because repeated criticism can quietly shape how young people see themselves long before they know how to explain their feelings.<\/p>\n
5. A sincere apology is more than an expression of regret; it requires acknowledging the impact of our behavior, respecting the other person\u2019s feelings, and demonstrating meaningful change through consistent actions.<\/p>\n
6. Family traditions are valuable when they bring people together in love, but no holiday gathering, celebration, or expectation should become more important than the emotional well-being of the people attending it.<\/p>\n
7. Parents who have experienced frightening or difficult beginnings with their children deserve compassion and encouragement, not blame for circumstances that may have been completely beyond their control.<\/p>\n
8. Forgiveness does not have to happen immediately, and choosing to rebuild trust gradually can create a stronger relationship than pretending painful experiences never occurred.<\/p>\n
9. Sometimes the bravest decision a parent can make is to walk away from a familiar situation, not because they want to punish someone, but because they want their child to grow up with a different understanding of love.<\/p>\n
10. The most meaningful legacy we leave our children is not a beautiful home, expensive presents, or perfect family photographs, but the certainty that they are worthy of kindness, respect, and unconditional love every single day of their lives.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Christmas I Almost Didn\u2019t Attend On Christmas morning, I stood beside my daughter\u2019s crib, fastening the tiny pearl buttons on her cranberry-red dress, and wondered whether I was making … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":17337,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17336","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family-drama-stories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17336","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=17336"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17336\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17338,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17336\/revisions\/17338"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/17337"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=17336"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=17336"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=17336"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}