{"id":32342,"date":"2026-03-25T14:53:25","date_gmt":"2026-03-25T14:53:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342"},"modified":"2026-03-25T14:58:47","modified_gmt":"2026-03-25T14:58:47","slug":"she-dropped-a-champagne-glass-and-the-whole-ballroom-mocked-her-minutes-later-the-billionaire-everyone-worshipped-chose-her-instead","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342","title":{"rendered":"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n

Part 1<\/h2>\n

My name is Elena Rhodes<\/strong>, and the night my life changed began with a broken champagne glass and the kind of humiliation that burns long after the room has gone quiet.<\/p>\n

My aunt had begged me to attend the Mercer Foundation gala with her because one of her donors had canceled at the last minute. I said no three times before she finally wore me down. I was twenty-six, working at a neighborhood bookstore caf\u00e9 by day and doing freelance illustration at night, and I had no business standing under crystal chandeliers beside women who wore gowns that probably cost more than my yearly rent. The only formal dress I owned was a navy one I had bought off clearance two years earlier for a funeral. I altered it myself at the waist, curled my hair in my tiny apartment mirror, and kept telling myself that if I stayed quiet enough, elegant enough, invisible enough, the night would pass without incident.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

The ballroom was a theater of polished smiles, old money, and effortless cruelty. Men in tailored tuxedos spoke in low confident voices. Women with perfect posture and diamonds at their throats drifted between tables like they had been born knowing how to move in rooms like that. I tried to keep close to my aunt, but she was swept away into conversations almost immediately, leaving me balancing a champagne flute and my discomfort in equal measure. I was already planning my exit when someone stepped backward without looking. Their shoulder hit my arm. The glass slipped from my fingers, struck the marble floor, and shattered so loudly the music seemed to stop around it.<\/p>\n

Every head turned.<\/p>\n

That was bad enough. What came next was worse.<\/p>\n

A woman near the dessert table laughed first. Then another whispered something to her husband while staring directly at my dress. A man I didn\u2019t know muttered, \u201cThey really will let anyone in now.\u201d I bent to help clean the mess, cheeks burning so hot I thought I might faint, but one of the event staff rushed over and gently asked me to stand back. I remember wishing the floor would open and swallow me whole.<\/p>\n

Then the room shifted.<\/p>\n

Not because people had suddenly found kindness, but because Adrian Vale<\/strong> had entered my line of sight.<\/p>\n

Everyone at the gala knew who he was. Adrian Vale was thirty-four, devastatingly self-possessed, and the billionaire chairman of Vale Holdings, the kind of man magazines described with words like formidable and elusive. He had been surrounded all evening by investors, socialites, and women with polished laughter. But instead of staying where admiration was easiest, he stepped out of that orbit and walked straight across the ballroom toward me.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t look amused. He didn\u2019t look embarrassed for me either, which somehow would have been worse. He simply offered me his hand and asked, in a calm voice that carried farther than it should have, \u201cWould you do me the honor of saving me from the most boring crowd in this room?\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

The entire ballroom stared with me.<\/p>\n

And when he led me onto the dance floor in front of everyone who had just watched me fall apart, I realized something terrifying: the most powerful man in the room had chosen me for a reason\u2014and I had no idea whether that reason would save me or ruin me.<\/p>\n

So why had Adrian Vale crossed a ballroom full of women far more polished, connected, and appropriate than me just to ask a clumsy stranger in a cheap dress to dance?<\/p>\n

Part 2<\/h2>\n

If Adrian had been anyone else, I would have assumed it was pity dressed as charm.<\/p>\n

But pity usually announces itself. It lingers too long in the eyes, softens the voice, makes a woman feel smaller while pretending to lift her up. Adrian did none of that. He drew me into the center of the dance floor with the quiet assurance of someone who did not need anyone\u2019s approval and had long ago stopped asking permission to act on instinct. The orchestra shifted into a slower piece, and I became painfully aware of my own breathing, my hand in his, the impossible steadiness of his posture. Around us, the ballroom kept moving, but the scrutiny remained. I could feel it pressing against my shoulders from every direction.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t dance well,\u201d I said, because it was the only honest sentence I could manage.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t need to,\u201d he replied. \u201cYou only need to stay.\u201d<\/p>\n

That answer unsettled me more than flirtation would have.<\/p>\n

Adrian was not trying to dazzle me with wealth. He wasn\u2019t reciting rehearsed compliments or asking me performative questions about what I did. He asked whether I always looked like I wanted to escape crowded rooms. He asked whether I liked the jazz quartet hidden near the back wall better than the orchestra at the center. He noticed I kept glancing toward the side doors and told me there was a terrace overlooking the river if I needed air. Everything about him suggested a man accustomed to controlling a room, yet with me he was strangely attentive in a way that felt less like conquest and more like curiosity.<\/p>\n

That made me wary.<\/p>\n

Men like Adrian Vale did not collect ordinary women by accident. They lived in worlds built on acquisition, timing, and carefully managed optics. I had spent enough time around wealthy customers at the bookstore caf\u00e9 to know how fascination worked for people who were never denied anything. They liked contrast. Mystery. Temporary disruptions to their own polished routines. I refused to become an interesting anecdote he told later over scotch.<\/p>\n

So when he found me on the terrace thirty minutes later and asked if he could take me to dinner the following week, I said no.<\/p>\n

His expression changed, but only slightly. \u201cBecause you\u2019re not interested?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause you are,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd men like you are usually interested in moments, not people.\u201d<\/p>\n

He should have laughed. He should have let it go. Instead, he leaned against the stone railing beside me and said something I still remember exactly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen perhaps you should give me the chance to be disappointing in person instead of by stereotype.\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost smiled. Almost. But I still refused.<\/p>\n

Over the next month, Adrian kept appearing in my life in ways that would have been intrusive if they had not been so carefully respectful. He sent wildflowers to the bookstore instead of orchids, because during the gala I had mentioned I hated flowers that looked too expensive to touch. He came in for coffee one rainy afternoon and waited twenty minutes in line without once using his name to move faster. When he learned I illustrated children\u2019s book covers on the side, he asked to see my work and actually looked at it, not with indulgence but with full attention. He did not buy me jewelry. He bought first editions for the shop after overhearing me say we were losing our rare-book supplier. He listened to my answers instead of waiting for his turn to impress me.<\/p>\n

That was how he became dangerous.<\/p>\n

Not because he overwhelmed me, but because he kept being genuine when I expected the performance to crack.<\/p>\n

Still, I held my distance. I had grown up understanding exactly what money could do to power, and I wanted no part in becoming a woman bent around a richer man\u2019s gravity. Adrian could sense that fear in me even when I did not say it aloud. The night he finally asked why I kept flinching from what was obviously happening between us, I told him the truth: men from his world marry women from their own world. They date women like me only until the novelty fades.<\/p>\n

He looked at me for a long time before answering.<\/p>\n

Then he said, quietly, \u201cElena, do you really think I crossed that ballroom for novelty?\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n

Because by then the real question was not whether Adrian Vale wanted me.<\/p>\n

It was whether I was brave enough to believe he might want all of me in public, not just the version of me hidden from the world.<\/p>\n

Part 3<\/h2>\n

The first real argument Adrian and I ever had happened because he invited me to another gala.<\/p>\n

Not by accident. Not as a plus-one tucked discreetly onto the edge of his evening. He wanted me beside him at the annual Vale Foundation winter reception, the same kind of event where people measured worth by table placement, surname, and fabric labels. When he asked, my first instinct was to laugh from nerves and say absolutely not. The memory of shattered glass and whispered cruelty still lived under my skin. But Adrian only watched me, patient and infuriatingly calm, and said, \u201cI\u2019m not asking you to prove you belong. I\u2019m asking you to stop hiding from people who never earned that power.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was what terrified me.<\/p>\n

Because by then, I loved him.<\/p>\n

Not the mythology around him, not the money, not the headlines, but the actual man who showed up at my caf\u00e9 at seven-thirty in the morning to carry milk crates when our delivery driver quit, who sat on my apartment floor eating takeout after twelve-hour board meetings, who once canceled a private dinner with a senator because I was sick and wanted soup from the corner deli. Loving him was the easy part. Believing that love could survive the room that had once tried to humiliate me was harder.<\/p>\n

I almost told him no.<\/p>\n

Instead, I let him pick me up at seven.<\/p>\n

The difference this time was not the dress, though Adrian quietly arranged for a tailor after I admitted I owned nothing suitable and was too proud to let him buy me a costume version of elegance. The difference was me. I walked into that ballroom knowing exactly who I was: a woman who worked hard, created beautiful things, and had spent too many years apologizing for not being born into a world that mistook polish for character. Adrian did not lead me through the room like a rescued stray. He greeted people, introduced me by name, and stood beside me with the unbothered confidence of a man making something obvious.<\/p>\n

This is Elena. She\u2019s with me.<\/p>\n

No explanation. No qualification. No apology.<\/p>\n

And in that simple sentence, every fear I had built around us began to loosen.<\/p>\n

Of course people stared. Of course some remembered the previous gala. I even recognized one of the women who had laughed when I dropped the champagne glass. This time, she looked away first. Adrian spent the evening doing what he had promised from the beginning: choosing me without spectacle, but without hesitation either. He asked my opinion during conversations about art philanthropy because he respected my work. He introduced me to publishers because he remembered my illustration contracts mattered to me. When one older businessman made a patronizing remark about \u201crags-to-riches romance,\u201d Adrian\u2019s reply was so cold and precise the man nearly choked on his drink. I loved him a little for that too.<\/p>\n

Later, on the same terrace where I had once rejected him, he told me something I had not fully understood until then.<\/p>\n

He said the reason he crossed the ballroom that first night was not because I looked helpless.<\/p>\n

It was because I looked furious and dignified at the same time, and he had spent too many years in rooms full of polished emptiness not to recognize real character when it appeared in front of him.<\/p>\n

Then he kissed me.<\/p>\n

Not secretly. Not like a scandal. Not like a man stealing something from a lower world for private enjoyment. He kissed me the way a future begins\u2014openly, steadily, without shame. The city lights were reflected in the river below us, music drifted through the terrace doors, and for the first time in my life I understood that love does not erase difference in status. It reveals which differences matter and which were only ever upheld by fear.<\/p>\n

We were not a fairy tale after that. Real life remained real. I still worked. He still ran an empire. There were tabloids, assumptions, and the occasional person who believed I must have been chosen for beauty instead of substance. But Adrian never asked me to become smaller so his world would feel more comfortable. If anything, he kept daring me to become more visible.<\/p>\n

And I did.<\/p>\n

So if anyone asks how it started, I tell them the truth. It began with humiliation, yes. But it survived because neither of us confused rescue with love. He saw me clearly before I believed it myself, and then he stayed long enough for me to learn how to stand beside him without shrinking.<\/p>\n

If this story touched you, like, comment, and share\u2014real love sees, stays, protects, uplifts, chooses, and never asks you to disappear.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Part 1 My name is Elena Rhodes, and the night my life changed began with a broken champagne glass and the kind of humiliation that burns long after the room has gone quiet. My aunt had begged me to attend the Mercer Foundation gala with her because one of her donors had canceled at the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":32349,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-32342","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-purpose"],"yoast_head":"\nShe Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead - Purposeful Days<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead - Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Part 1 My name is Elena Rhodes, and the night my life changed began with a broken champagne glass and the kind of humiliation that burns long after the room has gone quiet. My aunt had begged me to attend the Mercer Foundation gala with her because one of her donors had canceled at the […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-03-25T14:53:25+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2026-03-25T14:58:47+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"1000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"1000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"purpose true\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"purpose true\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"10 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342\",\"name\":\"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead - Purposeful Days\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-03-25T14:53:25+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2026-03-25T14:58:47+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg\",\"width\":1000,\"height\":1000},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\",\"name\":\"Purposeful Days\",\"description\":\"\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a\",\"name\":\"purpose true\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"purpose true\"},\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=4\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead - Purposeful Days","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead - Purposeful Days","og_description":"Part 1 My name is Elena Rhodes, and the night my life changed began with a broken champagne glass and the kind of humiliation that burns long after the room has gone quiet. My aunt had begged me to attend the Mercer Foundation gala with her because one of her donors had canceled at the […]","og_url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342","og_site_name":"Purposeful Days","article_published_time":"2026-03-25T14:53:25+00:00","article_modified_time":"2026-03-25T14:58:47+00:00","og_image":[{"width":1000,"height":1000,"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"purpose true","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"purpose true","Est. reading time":"10 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342","name":"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead - Purposeful Days","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg","datePublished":"2026-03-25T14:53:25+00:00","dateModified":"2026-03-25T14:58:47+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Can_canh_dien_202603252153.jpg","width":1000,"height":1000},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=32342#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"She Dropped a Champagne Glass and the Whole Ballroom Mocked Her\u2014Minutes Later, the Billionaire Everyone Worshipped Chose Her Instead"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/","name":"Purposeful Days","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a","name":"purpose true","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"purpose true"},"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=4"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32342","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=32342"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32342\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":32350,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32342\/revisions\/32350"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/32349"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=32342"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=32342"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=32342"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}