{"id":17561,"date":"2026-07-17T15:54:16","date_gmt":"2026-07-17T15:54:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/?p=17561"},"modified":"2026-07-17T15:54:16","modified_gmt":"2026-07-17T15:54:16","slug":"my-husband-chose-his-daughter-over-me-at-the-family-barbecue","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/?p=17561","title":{"rendered":"My Husband Chose His Daughter Over Me at the Family Barbecue\u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

At a family barbecue, I accidentally brushed against my husband\u2019s daughter, and she screamed, \u201cDon\u2019t ever touch me again!\u201d Rather than asking what had happened, my husband looked at me coldly and said,<\/span><\/h1>\n<\/header>\n
\n
\n
\n

\u201cApologize to her or leave.\u201d So I walked away without another word-but when they returned home, what they found waiting for them changed everything.<\/p>\n

The first time I truly understood that I had become an outsider in my own marriage happened during a family barbecue in Lakewood, Colorado, on a bright Saturday afternoon filled with the scent of charcoal, sunscreen, and sweet corn roasting in foil.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

My husband, Daniel Whitmore, stood near the grill laughing with his brother as though he had no concerns in the world. His sixteen-year-old daughter, Ava, sat on the back deck beside her cousins, holding her phone and wearing the same irritated expression she always showed whenever I came within ten feet of her.<\/p>\n

Daniel and I had been married for three years.<\/p>\n

Ava had disliked me for every one of them.<\/p>\n

I never forced a relationship. I never called myself her mother. I remembered her birthdays, drove her
\nto volleyball practice, helped Daniel cover the cost of her braces, and stayed silent whenever she
\nintroduced me as \u201cjust Dad\u2019s wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

That afternoon, Daniel\u2019s mother asked me to bring lemonade outside. I carried the glass pitcher
\ncarefully, trying not to spill it. Ava suddenly stepped backward from the deck stairs while laughing at
\nsomething on her phone. I turned at the same moment, and my shoulder barely touched her arm.<\/p>\n

The pitcher trembled, and the ice clattered loudly.<\/p>\n

Before I could speak, Ava spun toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t ever touch me again!\u201d she screamed.<\/p>\n

The entire backyard fell silent.<\/p>\n

I froze. \u201cAva, I\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears appeared in her eyes so quickly they seemed rehearsed. \u201cYou always do this. You always try to
\nget close to me when nobody\u2019s looking.\u201d<\/p>\n

My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n

Daniel set down the grilling tongs and walked over with a hard expression. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe shoved me,\u201d Ava said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t,\u201d I whispered. \u201cDaniel, it was an accident.\u201d<\/p>\n

But he did not look at me like my husband.<\/p>\n

He looked at me like a judge who had already decided the verdict.<\/p>\n

\u201cApologize to her,\u201d he said coldly, \u201cor leave.\u201d<\/p>\n

A warm breeze passed through the yard.<\/p>\n

Someone coughed.<\/p>\n

Daniel\u2019s mother lowered her eyes toward the grass.<\/p>\n

I looked at Ava. She raised her chin and waited.<\/p>\n

Then I turned toward Daniel. \u201cYou believe I would shove your daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n

He remained silent.<\/p>\n

That silence told me everything.<\/p>\n

I placed the lemonade pitcher on the patio table. Then I removed the thin gold bracelet Daniel had
\ngiven me on our first anniversary and set it beside the paper plates.<\/p>\n

After that, I walked through the side gate, got into my car, and drove away without shedding a tear.<\/p>\n

Once I reached home, I did not pack in anger.<\/p>\n

I packed carefully.<\/p>\n

I collected my documents, laptop, the external hard drive from my desk, and the small black folder I
\nhad hidden for eight months.<\/p>\n

Then I contacted a locksmith.<\/p>\n

By the time Daniel and Ava returned that evening, the house was silent, the porch light glowed, and a
\nlarge white envelope sat in the middle of the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

PART 2<\/p>\n

Daniel later told his brother he assumed the envelope contained some dramatic apology.<\/p>\n

It did not.<\/p>\n

Ava entered first. She threw her purse onto the bench near the door and called, \u201cMegan?\u201d<\/p>\n

There was no response.<\/p>\n

Daniel walked into the kitchen and noticed the envelope with his name written across it in my
\nhandwriting.<\/p>\n

DANIEL.<\/p>\n

Not honey.<\/p>\n

Not Dan.<\/p>\n

Not my husband.<\/p>\n

Only Daniel.<\/p>\n

He opened it while Ava leaned against the counter, still wearing the smug smile she had brought
\nhome from the barbecue.<\/p>\n

There were three items inside.<\/p>\n

A copy of an application for a temporary protection order.<\/p>\n

A printed record of transfers from our joint account into Daniel\u2019s private account.<\/p>\n

And a letter from my attorney, Renee Caldwell.<\/p>\n

Daniel\u2019s expression changed before he finished the second paragraph.<\/p>\n

Ava noticed immediately. \u201cDad?\u201d<\/p>\n

He did not respond.<\/p>\n

He continued reading.<\/p>\n

The letter explained that I would no longer remain in the house because of repeated emotional
\nhostility, false allegations, and concerns involving financial misconduct. It also informed Daniel that
\nhe had seventy-two hours to respond regarding the division of marital property, including the house,
\nwhich was not solely his despite whatever he had apparently told his daughter.<\/p>\n

Ava grabbed the second page from his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does this mean?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

Daniel pulled it back. \u201cGo upstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. What does it mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means Megan is overreacting.\u201d<\/p>\n

But his voice had become thin.<\/p>\n

The home they were standing in was not Daniel\u2019s childhood property, his personal refuge, or some
\nplace he had generously \u201callowed\u201d me to occupy.<\/p>\n

I had provided the down payment.<\/p>\n

My name appeared on the deed.<\/p>\n

For almost two years, Daniel had also been quietly transferring money from our joint account into an
\naccount he believed I knew nothing about. He labeled the transactions as home repairs, school
\ncosts, insurance changes, and property tax savings.<\/p>\n

But I worked in accounting.<\/p>\n

I recognized hidden money.<\/p>\n

What I had not understood at first was the purpose behind it.<\/p>\n

Eight months earlier, a bank statement had been delivered to me by mistake, revealing a pattern.
\nAfter that, I stopped accepting Daniel\u2019s explanations and began preserving everything: screenshots,
\nreceipts, emails, and recorded messages from contractors confirming that no repairs had ever been
\narranged.<\/p>\n

Then I uncovered something larger.<\/p>\n

Daniel planned to refinance the house using my salary and credit, withdraw the equity, and transfer
\nthe funds into a college investment account under his exclusive control. He had promised Ava that
\nwhen she turned eighteen, he would help her purchase a condominium in Boulder.<\/p>\n

Using my money.<\/p>\n

When I cautiously questioned him, he laughed and said I was \u201ctoo sensitive about finances.\u201d<\/p>\n

So I waited.<\/p>\n

I gave him opportunity after opportunity to tell me the truth.<\/p>\n

At the barbecue, when Ava accused me and Daniel demanded an apology for something I had not
\ndone, he did more than humiliate me.<\/p>\n

He confirmed what I had been afraid to accept.<\/p>\n

Within that family, I mattered only as long as I contributed money, smiled politely, and remained silent.<\/p>\n

Daniel rushed upstairs and discovered that half the primary bedroom closet had been emptied. My
\nclothes were gone. My jewelry box had disappeared. The framed wedding photograph on the dresser
\nhad been turned facedown.<\/p>\n

Ava stood in the doorway, now pale.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad,\u201d she said, \u201cyou told me she couldn\u2019t leave because the house was yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel looked at her.<\/p>\n

For the first time that day, Ava realized adults could lie to children as well.<\/p>\n

PART 3<\/p>\n

By Monday morning, Daniel had called twenty-three times.<\/p>\n

I answered none of them.<\/p>\n

His first text was angry.<\/p>\n

You embarrassed me in front of my family.<\/p>\n

Then came blame.<\/p>\n

You are trying to take my daughter\u2019s home.<\/p>\n

Then panic.<\/p>\n

Megan, please call me. We need to talk before lawyers get involved.<\/p>\n

But attorneys were already involved.<\/p>\n

I was staying in my friend Claire\u2019s townhouse in Denver, sleeping in a guest room with blue curtains
\nand neatly folded towels placed at the end of the bed. Claire asked very few questions. She handed
\nme coffee, shared the Wi-Fi password, and said, \u201cYou can fall apart after the first meeting with your
\nattorney. Until then, stay sharp.\u201d<\/p>\n

So I stayed focused.<\/p>\n

Renee Caldwell\u2019s office was located on the ninth floor of a glass building downtown. She was in her
\nearly fifties, composed, direct, and nearly impossible to intimidate. She had represented me for
\nexactly eleven days before the barbecue. I had quietly hired her after discovering Daniel\u2019s refinancing
\ndocuments in the printer tray at home.<\/p>\n

He had printed a draft application and forgotten page six.<\/p>\n

Page six included my yearly income, credit score range, and an electronic signature line already
\ncompleted with my name.<\/p>\n

I had never approved it.<\/p>\n

When Renee examined the page, she tapped it once and said, \u201cThis is not just a marriage problem.
\nThis is a legal problem.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now I sat across from her desk while she arranged the contents of my folder into orderly piles.<\/p>\n

\u201cDaniel\u2019s attorney called this morning,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

I sat more upright. \u201cAlready?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. He wants to resolve this privately.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat means Daniel is scared.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means Daniel understands the paperwork is not flattering.\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost laughed, though the sound came out more like an exhale.<\/p>\n

Renee continued, \u201cYou have documentation of unauthorized financial movement, attempted misuse
\nof your signature, and a pattern of hostile treatment witnessed by multiple people. The barbecue
\nincident matters because it shows the family dynamic. It may not decide property division, but it
\nsupports your reason for leaving.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at my hands.<\/p>\n

A pale mark remained where my wedding ring had rested.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happens now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe file for divorce. We request a full financial disclosure. We freeze any major transactions
\ninvolving the house. And we make it clear that Daniel does not get to bully you into silence.\u201d<\/p>\n

That afternoon, Daniel stopped messaging me and began contacting Claire instead.<\/p>\n

She showed me the messages while lifting one eyebrow.<\/p>\n

Tell Megan this is between husband and wife.<\/p>\n

Tell Megan Ava is crying.<\/p>\n

Tell Megan she is destroying this family.<\/p>\n

Claire replied only once.<\/p>\n

Megan has legal representation. Contact her attorney.<\/p>\n

Then she blocked him.<\/p>\n

Two days later, Ava called from a number I did not recognize.<\/p>\n

I knew her voice immediately, though it sounded much softer than usual.<\/p>\n

\u201cMegan?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

A long silence followed. Traffic sounded in the background, perhaps from the school parking lot.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad doesn\u2019t know I\u2019m calling.\u201d<\/p>\n

I said nothing.<\/p>\n

She swallowed. \u201cHe\u2019s really mad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure he is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said you\u2019re trying to make us homeless.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat isn\u2019t true.\u201d<\/p>\n

F<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said you hate me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cAva, I don\u2019t hate you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why are you doing this?\u201d<\/p>\n

I could have told her it was because her father had lied.<\/p>\n

Because he had used me.<\/p>\n

Because she had learned cruelty from someone who rewarded it whenever it benefited him.<\/p>\n

Instead, I said, \u201cBecause I cannot live in a house where I am accused, disrespected, and used. I<\/p>\n

should have left sooner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ava went quiet.<\/p>\n

Then she said, \u201cI didn\u2019t really think you shoved me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Baby<\/p>\n

The admission landed heavily.<\/p>\n

I remained completely still.<\/p>\n

She continued quickly. \u201cI mean, I knew you bumped into me. But everyone was watching, and I was
\nmad, and Grandma always says Dad changed after marrying you, and I just \u2026 I wanted him to pick
\nme.\u201d<\/p>\n

My throat tightened, but I kept my voice steady.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd he did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t think you\u2019d leave.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was the problem, Ava.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then she began crying.<\/p>\n

Not loudly.<\/p>\n

Not theatrically.<\/p>\n

Only a small, broken sound from a girl who had finally reached the edge of the game she had been
\nplaying.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

I believed that she meant it in that moment.<\/p>\n

But one apology could not erase three years.<\/p>\n

\u201cAva,\u201d I said, \u201cI hope you learn from this. I really do. But I\u2019m not coming back.\u201d<\/p>\n

She did not respond.<\/p>\n

After some time, she asked, \u201cWhat\u2019s going to happen to the house?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat will be handled legally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDad said he paid for everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did not.\u201d<\/p>\n

Another silence followed.<\/p>\n

Then she asked very quietly, \u201cDid you pay for my braces?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked toward Claire\u2019s kitchen window, where the late afternoon sun stretched across the counter.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd volleyball camp?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd my laptop?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

She cried harder.<\/p>\n

I did not comfort her the way I once would have.<\/p>\n

That version of me had remained behind at the barbecue beside the lemonade pitcher while my
\nhusband chose humiliation instead of truth.<\/p>\n

Three weeks later, Daniel and I faced each other across a mediation table.<\/p>\n

He looked worse than I expected. His beard was uneven, his shirt creased, and dark shadows rested
\nbeneath his eyes. His attorney, Peter Lawson, had a sharp face and kept whispering warnings
\nwhenever Daniel\u2019s temper started rising.<\/p>\n

Renee sat beside me with a yellow legal pad and her usual composed expression.<\/p>\n

The mediator, a retired judge, examined the financial disclosures.<\/p>\n

Daniel attempted to describe the transfers as \u201cfamily planning.\u201d He claimed he had been putting
\nmoney aside for Ava because he feared I would refuse to support her once she turned eighteen.<\/p>\n

Renee pushed the refinance draft across the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the attempted use of my client\u2019s signature?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

Daniel\u2019s jaw tightened. \u201cIt was a draft.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWith her information already filled in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was going to discuss it with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou printed it while she was at work, saved it in a folder labeled \u2018final documents,\u2019 and scheduled a
\ncall with the lender for the following week.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel looked at me.<\/p>\n

For once, there was no control in his expression.<\/p>\n

Only calculation collapsing in real time.<\/p>\n

The mediator cleared his throat. \u201cMr. Whitmore, I suggest you listen carefully to your counsel before
\nresponding further.\u201d<\/p>\n

By the end of the day, Daniel accepted terms he would have laughed at one month earlier.<\/p>\n

The property would be sold unless he could legally refinance it under his name alone and pay me my
\ncomplete share of the equity within ninety days. His income and credit were insufficient, so everyone
\nat the table understood the outcome.<\/p>\n

The house would be sold.<\/p>\n

I would be repaid for part of the money transferred without authorization. Daniel would remain
\nresponsible for his personal debts. Neither of us would communicate directly except through our
\nattorneys regarding unresolved legal matters.<\/p>\n

As we stood to leave, Daniel finally addressed me without being prompted by his lawyer.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t have to do it like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

I lifted my purse.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI did.\u201d<\/p>\n

His mouth tightened. \u201cAva misses you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Daniel. Ava misses what I provided. There\u2019s a difference.\u201d<\/p>\n

He flinched.<\/p>\n

For years, I had confused patience with kindness.<\/p>\n

I believed that if I remained gentle long enough, the house might eventually feel like a home.<\/p>\n

But one person cannot build a home by absorbing every insult while everyone else calls the result
\npeace.<\/p>\n

Two months later, the property was listed for sale.<\/p>\n

I returned once while Daniel and Ava were gone, accompanied by a realtor and locksmith. The rooms
\nfelt strangely empty with half the furniture removed. The kitchen table remained, the same table
\nwhere I had left the envelope.<\/p>\n

I paused in the doorway, remembering the woman who had placed it there.<\/p>\n

She had not been dramatic.<\/p>\n

She had simply reached the end.<\/p>\n

In the living room, I noticed something resting on the mantel. Daniel had turned the wedding
\nphotograph upright again, perhaps for potential buyers or perhaps from guilt. In the picture, I smiled
\ntoward the camera while Daniel looked at me with an expression I had once mistaken for love.<\/p>\n

I removed the frame, pulled out the photograph, and tore it neatly in two.<\/p>\n

I kept my half.<\/p>\n

Not because I wanted the memory.<\/p>\n

Because I wanted evidence that I had existed in that home as more than a source of money, more
\nthan a convenient stepmother, and more than a woman expected to apologize whenever someone
\nelse hurt her.<\/p>\n

The property sold quickly to a young couple with a baby and a golden retriever.<\/p>\n

At closing, Daniel did not meet my eyes. Ava came with him, wearing a gray sweatshirt and no
\nmakeup. She waited until the papers were signed before approaching me in the hallway.<\/p>\n

She looked younger than sixteen.<\/p>\n

\u201cI got a job,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

I was genuinely surprised. \u201cYou did?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAt a frozen yogurt place near school. I\u2019m paying Dad back for some stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s good.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded and twisted her fingers. \u201cI also told Grandma what really happened at the barbecue.\u201d<\/p>\n

I studied her expression.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe didn\u2019t believe me at first,\u201d Ava continued. \u201cThen Uncle Mark said he saw me step back into you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I slowly released a breath.<\/p>\n

For weeks, I had wondered whether anyone would ever acknowledge what happened.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you for telling her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ava\u2019s eyes filled with tears, though she kept them from falling. \u201cI know it doesn\u2019t fix it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said softly. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m still sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded once more, accepting the answer exactly as it was.<\/p>\n

Not punishment.<\/p>\n

Not forgiveness.<\/p>\n

Only truth.<\/p>\n

Six months after the barbecue, I moved into a small Fort Collins condominium with large windows,
\nquiet neighbors, and a balcony wide enough for two chairs and a pot of basil. Mine was the only
\nname on the deed. Every bill was addressed to me. Every key belonged to me.<\/p>\n

During the first warm weekend of spring, Claire arrived with takeout food and wine. We ate noodles
\ndirectly from the containers while watching the sun disappear behind the foothills.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you ever miss them?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

I remembered Daniel standing beside the grill and demanding that I apologize. I remembered Ava\u2019s
\nsharp scream cutting across the yard. I remembered the envelope resting on the kitchen table like a
\njudgment.<\/p>\n

\u201cI miss who I thought they could become,\u201d I said. \u201cNot who they were.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claire lifted her carton. \u201cThat\u2019s growth.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

My phone vibrated once on the table.<\/p>\n

A message had arrived from an unfamiliar number.<\/p>\n

Megan, it\u2019s Ava. I\u2019m not asking you to answer. I just wanted to tell you I got accepted into a summer
\nbusiness program. I\u2019m paying half myself. I think you would have liked that. I hope you\u2019re okay.<\/p>\n

I read it twice.<\/p>\n

Then I turned the phone facedown.<\/p>\n

Perhaps one day I would answer.<\/p>\n

Perhaps I would not.<\/p>\n

What mattered was that my silence no longer came from fear.<\/p>\n

That evening, as the temperature cooled and the sky deepened into violet, I stepped onto my balco
\nand watched the peaceful street below.<\/p>\n

For three years, I had tried to earn a place inside a family that kept moving the entrance.<\/p>\n

At the barbecue, they ordered me to apologize or leave.<\/p>\n

So I left.<\/p>\n

And when they returned home, the shock was already waiting.<\/p>\n

Not revenge.<\/p>\n

Not drama.<\/p>\n

Only the consequences of underestimating a woman who had finally stopped begging anyone to
\nbelieve her.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

At a family barbecue, I accidentally brushed against my husband\u2019s daughter, and she screamed, \u201cDon\u2019t ever touch me again!\u201d Rather than asking what had happened, my husband looked at me … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":16849,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,15,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17561","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17561","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=17561"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17561\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17562,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17561\/revisions\/17562"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/16849"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=17561"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=17561"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=17561"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}