{"id":140,"date":"2026-03-07T15:16:22","date_gmt":"2026-03-07T15:16:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/?p=140"},"modified":"2026-03-07T15:16:22","modified_gmt":"2026-03-07T15:16:22","slug":"my-mother-left-my-dad-and-me-behind-22-years-later-she-appeared-at-our-door-and-handed-me-an-envelope","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/?p=140","title":{"rendered":"My mother left my dad and me behind \u2014 22 years later, she appeared at our door and handed me an envelope."},"content":{"rendered":"

When Dylan\u2019s long-absent mother suddenly returns after twenty years, she brings more than memories from the past \u2014 she carries a revelation that could shake the foundation of his entire life. What starts as a tense encounter soon turns into a moment of truth, forcing Dylan to decide between biology\u2026 and the man who truly raised him.<\/p>\n

My name is Dylan, and my life has never been simple.<\/p>\n

My mother, Jessica, had me when she was very young. She and my dad, Greg, were barely adults at the time. From what I\u2019ve heard, they tried to stay together in the beginning, but whatever bond they had wasn\u2019t strong enough to survive.<\/p>\n

Not the pressure of a pregnancy\u2026 and not the responsibility of raising me.<\/p>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A thoughtful young man in a white sweater | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

The day I was born, my dad hurried to the hospital, believing he was about to meet his son and begin a new life together with my mom.<\/p>\n

Instead, she simply placed me in his arms.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not interested in raising a child, Greg,\u201d she told him. \u201cI don\u2019t want him. You can take care of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then she walked out of the hospital\u2014and out of my life. She never offered any support after that, neither financially nor emotionally.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A hospital waiting area | Source: Unsplash<\/p>\n

There was nothing afterward\u2014no phone calls, no greeting cards, no birthday wishes. Just a silence that stretched over the years like an unbreakable barrier between us. At times, that silence felt louder than any argument ever could have.<\/p>\n

My dad raised me completely on his own. Every fever, every scraped knee, every last-minute trip to the store because I suddenly needed poster board for a school project\u2014he was always there.<\/p>\n

He cooked our meals, cleaned the house, did the laundry, and made sure the lights stayed on, even when the power company threatened to cut them off. And through it all, not once\u2014not a single time\u2014did he complain.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A weary man standing beside a washing machine | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

What amazed me the most was that he never spoke badly about her\u2014not even casually. Even when he was exhausted, stressed, or overwhelmed, he never said a single negative thing.<\/p>\n

When I was seven, I once asked him what my mother looked like. He didn\u2019t get uncomfortable or try to dodge the question. Instead, he opened the drawer of his nightstand, took out a small, worn photograph, and gently handed it to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s your mom, Dyl,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cYou deserve to know what she looks like.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A thoughtful little boy sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

She had gentle brown eyes and auburn hair that flowed down past her shoulders. She looked like someone straight out of a shampoo advertisement\u2014beautiful, carefree, and untouched by the hardships of life.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy did she leave?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

My dad sat down next to me and released a quiet sigh.<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes people make choices we can\u2019t fully understand,\u201d he said. \u201cThat doesn\u2019t necessarily make them bad people. It just means\u2026 they weren\u2019t ready for what was happening in their lives at the time. Do you get that?\u201d<\/p>\n

I remember not really knowing what to say. So I simply nodded.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you hate her, Dad?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he replied, shaking his head. \u201cI just love you more than I hate what she did.\u201d<\/p>\n

Those words stayed with me. At the time, I didn\u2019t fully grasp their meaning, but now I do. That simple sentence held everything together. It taught me that love isn\u2019t about showing up only when it\u2019s easy\u2014it\u2019s about choosing to remain, even when things are difficult.<\/p>\n

And my dad? He chose to stay.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A man sitting on a couch with a gentle smile | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

We didn\u2019t grow up with much. During the week, my dad worked maintenance at a high school, and on weekends he picked up shifts bartending. Some nights he\u2019d come home with blisters on his hands and an aching back, then fall asleep on the couch without even taking off his work boots.<\/p>\n

By the time I was ten, I was already cooking proper meals, neatly folding laundry, and making coffee strong enough to keep him awake through his shifts. My childhood didn\u2019t feel like the usual growing up\u2014it felt more like walking in his footsteps, trying to keep up.<\/p>\n

But I never resented it. Not once. If anything, I was proud\u2014proud of him and proud of us. I pushed myself in school, not because anyone demanded it, but because I wanted to give something back to the man who had given me everything.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A little boy standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know you don\u2019t have to carry the whole world on your shoulders, Dylan,\u201d he used to tell me. \u201cI\u2019m the dad. It\u2019s my job to worry, not yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d I\u2019d reply. \u201cBut maybe I can carry a little of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

By the time I turned 21, I had started LaunchPad<\/strong>, a startup designed to connect young creatives with mentors and small-scale investors. In simple terms, if you were a struggling artist with big ideas but no resources, our platform gave you an opportunity.<\/p>\n

Within a year, the company took off. We were featured first on local TV, then on national news. Before long, I was appearing in interviews, podcasts, and panel discussions. Suddenly, people other than my father were interested in hearing what I had to say.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A smiling young man in a white dress shirt | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

For the first time, I found myself wondering: What if she saw me now?<\/p>\n

Would she feel proud? Would she regret walking away? Would she look at everything I\u2019d built\u2014the company, the team, the mission\u2014and feel even a flicker of maternal instinct stir within her?<\/p>\n

Or would she feel absolutely nothing?<\/p>\n

I never spoke these thoughts aloud. Not to my dad. But they lingered in the back of my mind, quietly waiting.<\/p>\n

And, as it happened, I wouldn\u2019t have to wonder for much longer.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A young man lying in his bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

One Saturday morning, I was in the home office, replying to emails and getting ready for mentorship calls, when I heard my dad\u2019s voice from the front porch.<\/p>\n

\u201cDyl,\u201d he called, a little hesitant. \u201cSomeone\u2019s here\u2026 asking for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I got up slowly. There was something in his tone that caught me off guard\u2014gentle, yet cautious, as if he already knew who it was.<\/p>\n

I walked down the hallway, my heart pounding. Dad stood by the screen door, hand resting on the frame.<\/p>\n

\u201cJessica,\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A young man using his laptop | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

And then I saw her\u2014Jessica, my biological mother.<\/p>\n

The woman I had pictured in my mind countless times.<\/p>\n

Her hair was shorter now, and faint lines traced around her eyes. She looked older than the woman in the photo, but there was no mistaking her. Life had left its mark, though not the kind that brings wisdom.<\/p>\n

\u201cDylan,\u201d she said, her voice calm and even. \u201cIt\u2019s been a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I whispered. \u201cIt has.\u201d<\/p>\n

A strange, almost cinematic silence hung between us. I waited\u2014maybe for tears, an apology, or any hint that this moment mattered to her as much as it did to me. I had replayed this scene in my mind countless times, imagining her crying, holding me, whispering how sorry she was for missing my entire life.<\/p>\n

But Jessica didn\u2019t do any of that\u2014no tears, no sign of regret.<\/p>\n

Instead, she reached into her bag and handed me a manila envelope.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A manila envelope on a table | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is for you,\u201d she said, as casually as if she were handing me a flyer. Then, with a little too much cheer, she added, \u201cIt\u2019s a surprise!\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked down at the envelope. It wasn\u2019t sealed. My hands shook as I opened it, suddenly aware of my dad standing quietly behind me, steady and unwavering.<\/p>\n

Inside was a DNA test.<\/p>\n

I stared at it, trying to process the black-and-white printout\u2014the names, the numbers, the probability chart at the bottom.<\/p>\n

Jessica gestured toward my dad, who remained completely still.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A person holding a DNA test swab | Source: Unsplash<\/p>\n

\u201cThis shows that this man isn\u2019t your biological father, Dylan,\u201d she said calmly. \u201cI had the test done privately after you were born. I suspected he wasn\u2019t your father, but he was the better man\u2026 I never told Greg. I kept the results, of course. At the time, I didn\u2019t think it mattered\u2026 but now, seeing everything you\u2019ve accomplished, I thought you deserved to know the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled, almost softly, as if doing me a favor.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re mine, honey,\u201d she added. \u201cNow, we can start our lives over.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry\u2026 what?\u201d My voice trembled.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A smiling woman in a beige trench coat | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t hesitate. Calmly, she reached into her bag and pulled out a stapled set of documents, unfolding them with precision, as if she\u2019d practiced this moment countless times.<\/p>\n

She placed the contract on the porch railing, took a pen from her purse, and clicked it.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll that\u2019s left is for you to sign,\u201d she said, sliding the paper toward me.<\/p>\n

I looked down at it. The legal language was dense, but by now I was familiar with it. Still, as I skimmed through, paragraph three hit me like a gut punch: she was trying to claim a stake in my company.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A young man frowning while holding a stack of documents | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

LaunchPad. The company I\u2019d built from nothing\u2014the life I\u2019d created in her absence.<\/p>\n

I looked at her, and for the first time, I truly saw her. The rehearsed tone, the hollow smile, the poised, deliberate stance\u2014she stood like a visitor, not a mother.<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t come to reconnect; she had come for what she thought she could take.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think I understand now,\u201d I said softly.<\/p>\n

My dad stepped forward, his gaze locked on me, not her.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"An<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

An upset man standing outside | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cBlood doesn\u2019t make a parent, Jessica,\u201d I said, gripping the DNA test like it might burn. \u201cMy dad raised me. He loved me more than anything and showed me how to be a man. You\u2019re nothing but a stranger.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t just\u2014\u201d she started, disbelief and anger flashing across her face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can,\u201d I interrupted. \u201cAnd I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

I handed back the document, unsigned.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou walked away from me once without thinking about the consequences. This time, I\u2019m the one shutting the door.\u201d<\/p>\n

She tried to argue, throwing out words about rights, family, and second chances\u2014but I wasn\u2019t listening.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A young man standing by a door | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

The kitchen smelled of garlic and thyme\u2014the kind of warmth that settles into your chest before you even realize how much you needed it. My dad had stepped into the backyard after Jessica left.<\/p>\n

I knew he needed a moment alone, especially after the shock she\u2019d just delivered.<\/p>\n

Now, I was at the stove, stirring our favorite comfort dish: lamb stew.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t have to cook, Dyl,\u201d he said softly from the doorway.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"Garlic<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Garlic and thyme on a wooden board | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cI needed to do something with my hands, Dad,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd I thought you could use something warm.\u201d<\/p>\n

He gave a brief nod.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe waited 22 years to hit you with that,\u201d he said, moving closer to stir the pot.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you, Dad,\u201d I added softly, \u201cshe hit both of us with it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t meet my eyes, but I noticed his hand tighten around the spoon.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A pot of lamb stew on a stove | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn\u2019t change anything,\u201d I said, washing my hands. \u201cYou\u2019re still my dad. Blood or not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d he replied, letting out a deep, fragile sigh.<\/p>\n

I crossed the kitchen and leaned on the counter next to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, I mean it,\u201d I said. \u201cBlood doesn\u2019t erase who held me at three in the morning, who taught me to ride a bike\u2026 or who sat in the ER when I split my chin open on the sidewalk.\u201d<\/p>\n

He stirred the stew again, his eyes glistening.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"An<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

An upset man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cIt just feels like losing something, son,\u201d he said. \u201cEven though I know I\u2019m not. But\u2026 Dyl, if you want to get to know her\u2026 I won\u2019t stop you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care about that woman,\u201d I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. \u201cI didn\u2019t lose anything. If anything\u2026 I just realized how much more you\u2019ve given me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re okay? Dyl, really?\u201d he asked, blinking hard before finally nodding.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A young man standing in a kitchen wearing a navy sweatshirt | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve always been okay,\u201d I said with a smile. \u201cWe\u2019re iron-strong, Dad. It\u2019s always going to be you and me.\u201d<\/p>\n

We sat together at the kitchen table, eating quietly.<\/p>\n

But Jessica wasn\u2019t finished.<\/p>\n

The next day, she appeared at my office with a lawyer. They didn\u2019t bother making an appointment\u2014they just walked through reception like they owned the place. My team texted me from the front desk before I even looked up from my laptop.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A determined woman standing in an office reception | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cA woman named Jessica and a man in a suit are here to see you. Apparently, it\u2019s urgent.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stood, took a deep breath, and buttoned my jacket. I wasn\u2019t nervous anymore\u2014just tired. Tired of letting her try to rewrite my story.<\/p>\n

When I walked into the conference room, Jessica turned to me, smiling like she was about to make a pitch.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to speak to Dylan alone,\u201d she told my assistant.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A lawyer wearing a navy suit | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

I glanced at her lawyer\u2014a man in his fifties with perfect teeth, an expensive navy suit, and the look of someone who charges $800 an hour to act like he\u2019s untouchable.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you get a lawyer, I get mine,\u201d I said calmly, motioning for Maya to join me.<\/p>\n

I sat down across from them. Maya took the seat to my left. She didn\u2019t have to speak\u2014her presence said it all.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m your mother,\u201d Jessica said, opening her arms as if we were about to hug. \u201cThat has to mean something, Dylan.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A young man standing with folded arms | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn\u2019t,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ve spent my whole life wondering about you, Jessica. A thousand questions, countless daydreams of you showing up at our door, eager to meet me. But in one visit, you revealed how selfish you are. You were ready to take me away from the only parent I\u2019ve ever known. And for what? To stake a claim in my company?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDylan\u2026\u201d she said, locking eyes with me.<\/p>\n

I pulled a single sheet of paper from my folder and slid it across the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want blood, Jessica? There it is. That\u2019s all you\u2019re entitled to. You walked out when I was a newborn. You were gone for more than two decades. My dad, Greg, is my parent. The rest of this,\u201d I tapped the table, \u201cthis company, this life, this identity\u2026 none of it belongs to you. And neither do I.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A man sitting in a conference room | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

She stayed silent. Her lawyer leaned in, mouth opening as if to object, but Maya was quicker.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s talk numbers,\u201d Maya said calmly, flipping open our file.<\/p>\n

We laid everything out: my dad\u2019s employment records, proof of his two jobs, medical bills he covered alone, and even screenshots of Jessica\u2019s public posts boasting about her new life while giving nothing to the child she abandoned.<\/p>\n

There had been no effort to reach out, no attempt to help. All Jessica did was walk away\u2014willingly.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A smiling woman standing on a beach | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re filing for retroactive child support,\u201d Maya said. \u201cAnd based on the financial records we\u2019ve compiled, the court will see that your client had the means to help\u2014and didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jessica denied everything, even dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she clearly brought for effect.<\/p>\n

But it didn\u2019t matter.<\/p>\n

When the case went to court, the ruling was in our favor. Jessica was ordered to repay hundreds of thousands in missed support.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"The<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

The interior of a courtroom | Source: Unsplash<\/p>\n

When the ruling was announced, she stormed out of the courtroom.<\/p>\n

And then came the press.<\/p>\n

Maya issued a carefully worded public statement. It stuck to the facts: the DNA test, the years of abandoned responsibility, and the attempted claim on my company. Jessica wasn\u2019t named directly, but anyone with Google and half a mind could figure it out.<\/p>\n

Overnight, our social media blew up. But it wasn\u2019t just sympathy\u2014it was respect. People began to see LaunchPad<\/strong> not merely as a business, but as a testament.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A person holding a cellphone open to social media apps | Source: Pexels<\/p>\n

To resilience. To self-made success. And to the truth that love and achievement aren\u2019t defined by biology.<\/p>\n

Three months later, I stood on stage in front of cameras, unveiling our latest initiative.<\/p>\n

The Backbone Project:<\/strong> a mentorship fund for young adults who had been abandoned, neglected, or left behind.<\/p>\n

We provided these mentees with financial support to kickstart their lives. We gave them guidance and the tools to succeed. And in doing so? We gave them a future.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A smiling young man standing on a stage | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

My dad never asked for recognition. He never wanted thanks or a stake in my company. He just showed up\u2014day after day, year after year. He gave me everything I needed, even when he had nothing left to give.<\/p>\n

As for Jessica? She carried the title of mother, one I never used\u2014and maybe that stung more than I ever admitted. Maybe, for a time, I even hated her. Or at least the idea of her.<\/p>\n

But standing there, with the world\u2019s noise finally quiet, I didn\u2019t feel hate. Sometimes, letting go doesn\u2019t come with a roar\u2014it just exhales.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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\"A<\/picture><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

A pensive man sitting on a porch step | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n

If you enjoyed this story, here\u2019s another one for you: A father begins to notice the subtle ways his new wife dismisses his daughter. He tries to maintain peace, but a birthday cake betrayal forces him to make a decision that will change everything. In the end, he discovers that love means standing up for the child who needs him most.<\/p>\n

This story is inspired by real events and people but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been altered to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental and unintentional.<\/p>\n

The author and publisher make no guarantees about the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is presented \u201cas is,\u201d and all opinions expressed are those of the characters, not the author or publisher.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When Dylan\u2019s long-absent mother suddenly returns after twenty years, she brings more than memories from the past \u2014 she carries a revelation that could shake the foundation of his entire life. What starts as a tense encounter soon turns into a moment of truth, forcing Dylan to decide between biology\u2026 and the man who truly…<\/p>\n

Read More “My mother left my dad and me behind \u2014 22 years later, she appeared at our door and handed me an envelope.”<\/span> »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":141,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-140","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=140"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":142,"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140\/revisions\/142"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/141"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=140"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=140"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yourvibedaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=140"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}