My boyfriend, Ethan, and I had been together for almost two years when he finally admitted what he had apparently been thinking for months.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t feel as attracted to you as I used to,\u201d he said, sitting across from me on his gray living room sofa. \u201cYou’ve gained some weight, and I think it’s starting to affect our relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was twenty-three years old. I wore the same size six-to-eight clothes I had worn for most of our relationship. I could still climb stairs without getting winded, walk for miles, and spend an entire Saturday exploring the city.<\/p>\n
I had gained ten pounds.<\/p>\n
Ten.<\/p>\n
Not because I had suddenly stopped caring about myself, but because life had changed. I had started a new job, my schedule had become unpredictable, and I had finally stopped treating every meal like a test of my discipline.<\/p>\n
Ethan, however, spoke as though I had broken a promise.<\/p>\n
He didn’t ask whether I was happy. He didn’t ask whether I felt healthy. He didn’t ask whether work had been stressful.<\/p>\n
He talked about his preferences.<\/p>\n
\u201cI just think people should maintain themselves,\u201d he continued. \u201cPhysical attraction matters, and I don’t want us to get comfortable and let ourselves go.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him for a moment.<\/p>\n
There had been a time when a conversation like this would have destroyed me. I would have gone home, examined myself in the mirror, skipped dinner, and wondered what I needed to change to become the woman he wanted.<\/p>\n
But something had shifted inside me over the previous few months.<\/p>\n
I had begun noticing how often I was the one making adjustments.<\/p>\n
When Ethan had a difficult week at work, I listened for hours. When he wanted to go somewhere, I rearranged my schedule. When he forgot our plans, I pretended it didn’t bother me.<\/p>\n
And whenever I spent the weekend at his apartment, I usually brought my own groceries because his refrigerator contained little more than crackers, cheese, a bottle of ketchup, and a few cans of beer.<\/p>\n
He never seemed to consider that I might be hungry until I mentioned it.<\/p>\n
If I suggested ordering dinner, he would complain about the cost. If I wanted to cook, he would say his kitchen was too small or that he was too tired to help.<\/p>\n
Yet somehow, my body had become a relationship problem.<\/p>\n
I folded my hands in my lap and looked directly at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, what’s your solution to this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan leaned back, almost relieved.<\/p>\n
He seemed to believe I had finally accepted that my body was a problem he was entitled to solve.<\/p>\n
\u201cI’ve actually been thinking about that,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Then he explained his plan.<\/p>\n
He wanted me to start following a strict diet. He had found a fitness program online and wanted me to attend the gym five mornings a week. He suggested that I stop eating carbohydrates in the evening and weigh myself every Sunday.<\/p>\n
He even wanted me to send him my weight every week so he could \u201ckeep me accountable.\u201d<\/p>\n
I blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou want me to send you my weight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. Just so we can track progress.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe?\u201d<\/p>\n
He sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon’t make this complicated. I’m trying to help you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I let him continue.<\/p>\n
He said that if I followed the plan properly, I could lose the ten pounds within a couple of months. He would be willing to help me choose meals, as long as I stuck to the program.<\/p>\n
Then he added the part that made everything suddenly clear.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you get back to the weight you were when we met, I’ll feel more attracted to you again. And honestly, I think it would be good for both of us if you learned to take my preferences seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt something inside me go completely still.<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
He wasn’t asking me to improve my health. He wasn’t expressing a concern about something that affected my well-being.<\/p>\n
He was asking me to prove that my body was still subject to his approval.<\/p>\n
And he genuinely believed that because we had been together for nearly two years, he had earned the right to manage it.<\/p>\n
I looked around his apartment.<\/p>\n
The empty coffee cups on the table were mine. The blanket folded over the sofa was one I had bought because he complained that his living room was cold. The groceries in the refrigerator were mostly things I had brought over the previous weekend.<\/p>\n
I remembered the countless little ways I had made his life easier.<\/p>\n
And I wondered when I had started confusing being a good girlfriend with being endlessly accommodating.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan,\u201d I said quietly, \u201cwhen was the last time you cooked a proper meal for me?\u201d<\/p>\n
He frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that have to do with anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust answer the question.\u201d<\/p>\n
He thought for a moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t know. A few weeks ago?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou heated frozen pizza three weeks ago. I bought it.\u201d<\/p>\n
He rolled his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeriously? Are we keeping score now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I’m trying to understand why you think you have the right to supervise my body when you don’t seem interested in taking responsibility for anything else in our relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n
His expression hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s unfair. I work hard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo do I.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI’m not saying you don’t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why are you talking to me as though I owe you a certain appearance?\u201d<\/p>\n
He rubbed his forehead.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause attraction matters! I’m allowed to have preferences.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are,\u201d I replied. \u201cYou’re allowed to have preferences. You’re allowed to decide what you find attractive. You’re allowed to decide whether you want to stay in a relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded quickly, apparently thinking I was finally agreeing with him.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut,\u201d I continued, \u201cyou’re not allowed to turn your preferences into rules for my body and then expect me to obey them.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face changed.<\/p>\n
For the first time that evening, he seemed uncertain.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never said you had to obey me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou just told me you wanted me to follow a strict diet, exercise five days a week, weigh myself every Sunday, and report my weight to you. You also said I needed to learn to take your preferences seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s not control. That’s accountability.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAccountability is something I choose for myself. You don’t get to appoint yourself my supervisor.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stood and walked toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n
I watched him open the refrigerator, stare inside, and close it again.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook,\u201d he said, turning back to me, \u201cI’m being honest with you. Most guys wouldn’t even tell their girlfriends this. They’d just lose interest and leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost smiled.<\/p>\n
He had delivered that sentence as though he deserved a medal for his honesty.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen perhaps you should have told me you were struggling with attraction without presenting me with a program to fix myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told me what was wrong with my body. You didn’t ask me how I felt about any of this. You didn’t ask whether I wanted to change anything. You simply decided what I should do.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re making me sound like some controlling monster.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI’m telling you how this conversation feels to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stared at me, waiting for me to soften the statement.<\/p>\n
I didn’t.<\/p>\n
For nearly two years, I had been afraid of disappointing Ethan. I had worried about being too demanding, too emotional, too sensitive, or too difficult.<\/p>\n
I had carefully chosen my words whenever I wanted something from him because I didn’t want to start an argument.<\/p>\n
But as I sat there, listening to him explain why my body needed his supervision, I realized that I had spent so much time trying to be easy to love that I had forgotten to ask whether I was being loved well.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I ask you something?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He crossed his arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I lost those ten pounds and then gained them back next year, what would happen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would you gain them back if you were maintaining your lifestyle?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause bodies change. People get older. Work gets stressful. People get sick. Women can become pregnant. Life happens.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen we’d deal with it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBy getting back on track.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhose track?\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his mouth.<\/p>\n
Then he stopped.<\/p>\n
I could almost see him searching for an answer that wouldn’t make him sound as unreasonable as he suddenly appeared.<\/p>\n
Finally, he said, \u201cI just want to know that you’re making an effort for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him for a long time.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you making an effort for me?\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyebrows drew together.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt means I want to feel considered, too. I want to visit my boyfriend without having to bring enough food to feed myself for two days. I want to make plans that aren’t always built around your convenience. I want to talk about something that’s bothering me without being told I’m overreacting. I want a partner who cares about how I feel, not just how I look standing next to him.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stared at me.<\/p>\n
Then he laughed once, without humor.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo now I’m the bad guy because I want my girlfriend to be attractive?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cYou’re responsible for your own preferences. I’m responsible for my own decisions. And I’m deciding that I don’t want a relationship where my worth is measured on a scale.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re being dramatic.\u201d<\/p>\n
That word used to work on me.<\/p>\n
It used to make me question myself, retreat from the conversation, and apologize for having feelings.<\/p>\n
This time, it only made me tired.<\/p>\n
I picked up my handbag.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cHome.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe’re not finished talking.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think we are.\u201d<\/p>\n
He followed me toward the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait. Are you seriously going to end a two-year relationship over ten pounds?\u201d<\/p>\n
I stopped with my hand on the doorknob.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Ethan. I’m ending it because you think ten pounds gives you a reason to manage my body, monitor my habits, and decide whether I’m trying hard enough to deserve your attraction.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked stunned.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never said you had to earn my attraction.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou made it conditional on following your plan.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s not what I meant.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you should have said what you meant instead of handing me instructions for becoming someone you preferred.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice grew sharper.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo that’s it? You’re just leaving?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI’ve spent almost two years trying to be a good partner to you. I’m not going to spend the next two years trying to become a good enough version of myself to keep you interested.\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his mouth, but I walked out before he could answer.<\/p>\n
I drove home with both hands gripping the steering wheel.<\/p>\n
When I reached my apartment, I sat in my car for almost twenty minutes.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t crying because I believed Ethan was right.<\/p>\n
I was crying because I had finally admitted how much of myself I had been shrinking to keep him comfortable.<\/p>\n
I had convinced myself that love meant patience, compromise, and understanding. Those things mattered, of course. But I had forgotten that a healthy relationship required those qualities from both people.<\/p>\n
I had been giving him the benefit of the doubt for so long that I had stopped expecting him to give me the same consideration.<\/p>\n
That night, I called my older sister, Rachel.<\/p>\n
She listened without interrupting while I told her what had happened.<\/p>\n
When I finished, she asked one question.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you actually want to lose the weight before he said anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I admitted. \u201cI hadn’t even been thinking about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why are you considering it now?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked down at my hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I don’t want him to stop finding me attractive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rachel was quiet for a moment.<\/p>\n
Then she said, \u201cYou can’t build a peaceful life around trying to prevent someone from changing their mind about you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I began crying again.<\/p>\n
She continued gently.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can take care of yourself. You can exercise if it makes you feel good. You can change your diet if you want to. But you should never have to treat your body like a job you must perform to keep a boyfriend employed.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed through my tears.<\/p>\n
It was the first time I had laughed all evening.<\/p>\n
The following morning, Ethan sent me a long message.<\/p>\n
He said he was sorry the conversation had upset me, but he insisted that he had only been trying to help. He said physical attraction was important and that I had misunderstood his intentions.<\/p>\n
Then he asked whether I had thought about his plan overnight.<\/p>\n
I read the message twice.<\/p>\n
He hadn’t asked whether I was okay.<\/p>\n
He hadn’t asked whether I wanted to talk about our relationship.<\/p>\n
He wanted to know whether I had reconsidered the plan.<\/p>\n
I put my phone down without replying.<\/p>\n
Later that afternoon, he called.<\/p>\n
I let it ring.<\/p>\n
He called again.<\/p>\n
Then came another message.<\/p>\n
I don’t want to throw away what we have over something this small.<\/em><\/p>\n I finally responded.<\/p>\n I don’t either. But I can’t continue a relationship in which my body becomes a condition I must meet to keep your approval. I think we want different things, and I don’t want to keep arguing about whether I deserve to make my own decisions.<\/em><\/p>\n He replied almost immediately.<\/p>\n So you’re breaking up with me?<\/em><\/p>\n I stared at the screen.<\/p>\n Then I typed the words I had been afraid to say the night before.<\/p>\n Yes. I’m ending the relationship.<\/em><\/p>\n His response came several minutes later.<\/p>\n You’re going to regret this.<\/em><\/p>\n I didn’t answer.<\/p>\n For the next week, I felt a mixture of sadness, relief, and uncertainty. I missed the good parts of our relationship. I missed the way he used to reach for my hand while we watched movies. I missed the little jokes we shared and the familiar routines that had become part of my life.<\/p>\n Ending a relationship doesn’t erase the moments that once made it meaningful.<\/p>\n But I also noticed something else.<\/p>\n I ate dinner without wondering whether Ethan would approve of my choices. I went for a walk because the weather was beautiful, not because I needed to burn calories. I bought a dress I loved without imagining what he might say about how it fit.<\/p>\n And I stopped checking the mirror for evidence that I had become less worthy of affection.<\/p>\n Two weeks after the breakup, Ethan appeared outside my apartment building.<\/p>\n He was holding a paper bag from a restaurant we used to visit.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought we could talk,\u201d he said when I came downstairs.<\/p>\n I stayed near the entrance.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you want to talk about?\u201d<\/p>\n He looked tired.<\/p>\n \u201cI’ve been thinking about everything you said.\u201d<\/p>\n I waited.<\/p>\n \u201cI guess I could have handled the conversation better.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBetter how?\u201d<\/p>\n He shifted the bag between his hands.<\/p>\n \u201cI shouldn’t have made you feel like I was trying to control you.\u201d<\/p>\n I studied his face.<\/p>\n \u201cWere you trying to control me?\u201d<\/p>\n He looked away.<\/p>\n \u201cI wanted you to take my concerns seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did take them seriously. That’s why I ended the relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n He sighed.<\/p>\n \u201cI miss you.\u201d<\/p>\n Those words hurt more than I expected.<\/p>\n For a moment, I remembered the beginning of our relationship, when he would drive across town just to see me for half an hour. I remembered the way he used to look at me when I walked into a room.<\/p>\n Part of me wanted to believe that he had finally understood.<\/p>\n Then he said, \u201cI’ve also been thinking that maybe we could compromise.\u201d<\/p>\n I felt my shoulders tense.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat kind of compromise?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe you don’t have to do the whole program. Just start with the gym three times a week. We could even go together.\u201d<\/p>\n There it was again.<\/p>\n Even after the breakup, he was still trying to negotiate the terms of my body.<\/p>\n I took a slow breath.<\/p>\n \u201cEthan, I don’t think you understand what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n He frowned.<\/p>\n \u201cYou said I made you feel controlled. I’m offering to be flexible.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe problem isn’t the number of days at the gym.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen what is it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe problem is that you still believe this is a decision you get to negotiate with me.\u201d<\/p>\n He went quiet.<\/p>\n I continued.<\/p>\n \u201cIf I decide to exercise, I’ll exercise. If I decide to change how I eat, I’ll do that. If I gain weight, lose weight, or stay exactly where I am, those decisions belong to me. You can decide whether we’re compatible, but you don’t get to manage me into being your ideal girlfriend.\u201d<\/p>\n His expression tightened.<\/p>\n \u201cSo there’s no chance for us?\u201d<\/p>\n I considered the question honestly.<\/p>\n I didn’t hate him. I didn’t want him to suffer. I didn’t even believe he was incapable of changing.<\/p>\n But I had spent too much time hoping that the right explanation would make him understand something he had repeatedly refused to hear.<\/p>\n \u201cI don’t want to go back to the relationship we had,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd I don’t want to start another one just because you’re lonely now.\u201d<\/p>\n He lowered his eyes.<\/p>\n For the first time, he seemed to understand that I wasn’t threatening to leave in order to make him behave differently.<\/p>\n I had already left.<\/p>\n He set the paper bag on a nearby bench.<\/p>\n \u201cI really thought we could fix this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo did I,\u201d I replied. \u201cBut fixing a relationship isn’t the same as fixing one person until the other person is satisfied.\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded slowly.<\/p>\n Then he walked away.<\/p>\n I stood outside for another minute, watching him disappear around the corner.<\/p>\n I didn’t feel triumphant.<\/p>\n I felt sad for the two people we had been when we first fell in love, and for the relationship we might have had if we had learned to treat each other differently.<\/p>\n Then I went upstairs and made myself dinner.<\/p>\n Over the next several months, I rebuilt the routines I had neglected. I spent more time with friends. I started taking weekend trips. I returned to a hobby I had abandoned because Ethan thought it was a waste of time.<\/p>\n I began exercising regularly, too, but for an entirely different reason. I liked how it made me feel. I liked having more energy and sleeping better. Some weeks I went to the gym three times. Other weeks I barely went at all.<\/p>\n Nobody received a weekly report.<\/p>\n Nobody judged my progress.<\/p>\n And for the first time in a long while, my choices felt like my own.<\/p>\n About six months later, I ran into Ethan at a coffee shop.<\/p>\n He was sitting with a friend when he noticed me. After a brief hesitation, he walked over.<\/p>\n \u201cYou look happy,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cI am.\u201d<\/p>\n He glanced at me, then looked down at his coffee.<\/p>\n \u201cI’ve thought a lot about our relationship. I didn’t realize how much pressure I was putting on you.\u201d<\/p>\n I appreciated the honesty.<\/p>\n \u201cI’m glad you’ve thought about it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI really did love you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cI believe you.\u201d<\/p>\n He seemed surprised by my answer.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I don’t think I understood what loving someone was supposed to look like,\u201d he admitted.<\/p>\n I nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cNeither of us knew everything we needed to know.\u201d<\/p>\n He asked whether I was seeing anyone.<\/p>\n I told him I had started dating someone, a kind man named Oliver, who worked as a teacher and loved cooking elaborate Sunday breakfasts.<\/p>\n Ethan gave a small, awkward smile.<\/p>\n \u201cDoes he care about your weight?\u201d<\/p>\n I thought about Oliver’s kitchen, where he kept my favorite tea and always asked what I wanted to eat before we went shopping.<\/p>\n \u201cHe cares about whether I’m happy and healthy,\u201d I said. \u201cHe doesn’t treat my body like a project.\u201d<\/p>\n Ethan looked away.<\/p>\n \u201cI guess that’s fair.\u201d<\/p>\n We said goodbye a few minutes later.<\/p>\n As I walked home, I realized that I no longer needed Ethan to admit he had been wrong. I no longer needed him to regret losing me. His understanding was his responsibility, just as my happiness was mine.<\/p>\n I had once believed that being chosen by someone was proof that I was worthy of love.<\/p>\n Now I understood that the more important question was whether the person choosing me knew how to love me without trying to make me smaller.<\/p>\n I was twenty-three when Ethan told me that ten pounds had changed how he saw me.<\/p>\n I thought the conversation would become a battle over my appearance.<\/p>\n Instead, it became the moment I recognized the difference between someone having a preference and someone believing that preference gave them authority over me.<\/p>\n He was allowed to want a girlfriend whose body matched his ideal.<\/p>\n I was allowed to want a partner who respected me as a whole person.<\/p>\n Neither of us was required to stay.<\/p>\n But I was never required to change my body to prove that I deserved to be loved.<\/p>\n And that was the lesson I carried forward.<\/p>\n Love should make room for honesty, attraction, and difficult conversations. It should allow two people to express their needs without turning one person’s preferences into the other’s obligations.<\/p>\n My body was never a promise I had made to Ethan.<\/p>\n My weight was never a debt I owed him.<\/p>\n And my worth was never something he had the power to measure.<\/p>\n The relationship ended because I finally understood that I could love someone and still refuse to let them control me.<\/p>\n Sometimes, the most important change in your life doesn’t begin when you become the person someone else wants.<\/p>\n It begins when you stop asking for permission to be yourself.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My boyfriend, Ethan, and I had been together for almost two years when he finally admitted what he had apparently been thinking for months. \u201cI don’t feel as attracted to … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":123210,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-123235","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-best-best-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/123235","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=123235"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/123235\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":123236,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/123235\/revisions\/123236"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/123210"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=123235"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=123235"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/discoverstory9.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=123235"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}