{"id":68465,"date":"2026-05-28T03:35:13","date_gmt":"2026-05-28T03:35:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465"},"modified":"2026-05-28T03:35:13","modified_gmt":"2026-05-28T03:35:13","slug":"i-owe-fifty-grand-to-people-who-like-breaking-legs-and-youre-going-to-help-me-hes-with-me-i-thought-the-brutal-beating-at-the-auto-shop-was-my-darkest-hour-until-my-abusive-stepfather-re","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465","title":{"rendered":"“I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you’re going to help me.” – He’s With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me."},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Part 1<\/h3>\n

The piercing sound of shattered glass echoed through the desolate garage. My name is Alexander Miller. I\u2019m an eighteen-year-old mechanic at Pearson\u2019s auto shop, a gay teenager just trying to survive in a town that despises anything different. I live in a cramped, rotting trailer, keeping my head down and my secrets buried. But tonight, trouble found me anyway.<\/p>\n

“Thought you could hide in here, Alex?” Brad\u2019s voice slurred violently as he kicked the garage door open wider. He and his two massive buddies stepped into the dim light, wielding heavy steel crowbars. I backed away, my hands instinctively grabbing a heavy wrench from the workbench. My pulse deafened me. The summer festival was raging downtown, leaving this side of town completely abandoned. No one was coming to help.<\/p>\n

“Leave me alone, Brad,” I warned, my voice trembling despite my desperate attempt to sound brave. “I haven’t done anything to you.”<\/p>\n

“Your existence is enough,” he snarled, swinging the crowbar. It smashed into a nearby windshield, showering me in dangerous, glittering shards. I stumbled backward, tripping over an air hose and crashing hard onto the greasy concrete floor.<\/p>\n

Brad raised the weapon high above his head, his eyes wild with malice. I raised my arms, bracing for the bone-crushing impact, praying it would be over quickly.<\/p>\n

“Drop it. Now.”<\/p>\n

The command sliced through the tense air like a physical blade. Brad froze, his weapon hovering mid-air. Standing in the doorway was William Thompson, the millionaire rancher who practically owned our entire valley. He was supposed to be at the festival, yet here he stood, a towering, unmovable force of nature silhouetted against the flickering streetlights.<\/p>\n

“Old man, you better turn around and walk away,” Brad spat, though his hands shook slightly.<\/p>\n

William stepped fully into the garage, his piercing eyes locked onto Brad with terrifying intensity. He didn’t look at the weapons. He didn’t look at the numbers. He stepped right in front of me, forming an impenetrable human shield.<\/p>\n

“He’s with me,” William said, every syllable dripping with a lethal, icy calm.<\/p>\n

Brad\u2019s face twisted in uncontrollable rage. With a primal scream, he swung the heavy steel crowbar directly at William\u2019s unprotected head.<\/p>\n

I thought that night would be my last, but his words changed everything. Who is William Thompson, and why would a millionaire risk his life for a broken kid like me? The danger was only just beginning… The rest of the story is below \ud83d\udc47<\/p>\n

Part 2<\/h3>\n

The heavy steel descended with lethal force, but William didn’t even flinch. With a speed that defied his massive frame, his hand shot out, catching Brad’s forearm mid-swing. A sickening crack echoed through the air. Brad shrieked, dropping the weapon as he crumpled to his knees. The other two boys backed away in pure terror, their false bravery evaporating before scrambling into the darkness.<\/p>\n

William didn’t chase them. He turned to me, his harsh features softening into genuine concern. He extended a calloused hand, pulling me from the dirt. That single night shifted the axis of my universe. The town\u2019s vicious whispers vanished, replaced by a fearful respect. William Thompson had drawn a line in the sand, and no one dared cross it.<\/p>\n

A few days later, his black truck pulled up to the auto shop. He didn’t ask for a favor; he offered me a lifeline. He hired me to repair the miles of fencing surrounding his massive estate. I was naturally suspicious. In my world, kindness was just a mask for cruelty. But I desperately needed to escape the suffocating walls of my rotting trailer, so I accepted.<\/p>\n

The work was brutal but grounding. I learned fast, pouring my trauma into physical labor. Beneath the blazing sun, the walls between us began to crumble. I told him about my mother abandoning me, leaving me at the mercy of my violently unpredictable stepfather, Ray, until I finally ran away to live in a broken-down car.<\/p>\n

In return, William shared his own deep scars. His voice cracked as he spoke of his ex-wife’s vicious betrayal three years ago. She hadn’t just broken his heart; she had systematically destroyed his life, fleeing town and taking Emma and Sophie\u2014the two stepdaughters he had raised and loved as his very own flesh and blood. The agonizing void they left behind had turned his massive estate into a solitary fortress.<\/p>\n

Seeing my relentless work ethic, William offered me a secluded, rustic cabin on the northern edge of his property for next to nothing. Settling in next to the babbling creek, I finally learned how to breathe. When he noticed my fascination with sketching, he gifted me an old, weathered wooden box filled with premium art supplies. It belonged to his past, but he was giving it to my future. We started eating dinners together. We cooked, we laughed, and I found myself memorizing the strong, steady lines of his hands on my canvas.<\/p>\n

By October, the undeniable tension between us reached a boiling point. William boldly invited me to the town\u2019s Harvest Festival, dragging our quiet connection into the unforgiving public eye. Despite the conservative glares, standing beside him felt like wearing armor. That night, under the silver glow of the moon on his front porch, he looked deeply into my eyes.<\/p>\n

“You reminded me what it feels like to have a heartbeat, Alex,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Our first kiss was a desperate, consuming collision of two lonely souls finally finding a home.<\/p>\n

But peace is a fragile illusion, and my past wasn’t finished with me.<\/p>\n

The nightmare returned on a freezing November evening. I was alone in the cabin, painting the winter landscape, when the front door violently splintered inward. Freezing wind howled through the breach, but the ice in my veins came from the man standing in the doorway.<\/p>\n

It was Ray. My stepfather.<\/p>\n

He looked feral, his eyes bloodshot and a rusted revolver clutched in his trembling hand. “Look at you, living in luxury with your rich boyfriend,” Ray spat, locking the broken door behind him. “You thought you could just disappear? I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, Alex. And you’re going to help me get it.”<\/p>\n

“I don’t have any money, Ray! Get out!” I screamed, backing toward the fireplace, desperately searching for a weapon.<\/p>\n

“But your sugar daddy does,” Ray sneered, leveling the gun at my chest. “And here’s the twist, kid. I didn’t just stumble upon you. Brad\u2014that punk who beat you up? He works for my creditors. He\u2019s the one who tipped me off. Now, we’re going to wait right here for Mr. Thompson to come check on his favorite charity case.”<\/p>\n

Panic seized my throat. I couldn’t let William walk into this trap. But before I could move, the crunch of heavy boots echoed on the porch outside. William had arrived.<\/p>\n

Ray cocked the hammer of the revolver, pressing the icy barrel against my temple as the door handle slowly began to turn.<\/p>\n

If you’ve read this far, don’t hesitate to leave a like and comment before reading part 3. It makes us as happy as reading a complete story! Thank you. \ud83d\udc4d\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>\n

Part 3<\/h3>\n

The heavy oak door swung open, and William stepped into the cabin, brushing snow from his broad shoulders. He didn’t even have a second to process the shattered doorframe before Ray violently shoved me aside and aimed the rusted revolver squarely at William\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n

“Shut the door and empty your pockets!” Ray screamed, his finger twitching erratically on the trigger. “Move fast, or I shoot the kid.”<\/p>\n

Time seemed to stretch into agonizing slow motion. I braced for the deafening crack of a gunshot, my heart plummeting into my stomach. But William didn’t panic. His expression remained utterly unreadable, adopting that same terrifying, glacial calm he showed the night he saved me.<\/p>\n

“You pull that trigger, Ray, and you won’t live to see the snow melt,” William said, his voice a low, lethal rumble that commanded the entire room. He slowly reached into his heavy coat, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “The money is in the safe at the main house. Let Alex go, and it’s yours.”<\/p>\n

“Don’t do it, William!” I yelled, scrambling to my feet.<\/p>\n

“Shut up!” Ray roared, momentarily shifting his gaze toward me to deliver a vicious backhand.<\/p>\n

That single, fatal microsecond of distraction was all William needed. With explosive speed, he lunged forward. He grabbed Ray\u2019s wrist, twisting it violently upward. The revolver discharged with a deafening blast, sending a bullet tearing through the ceiling as they crashed into the coffee table, shattering it completely. Ray fought dirty, clawing and thrashing like a cornered animal, but he was completely outmatched by William\u2019s sheer, brute strength and quiet fury.<\/p>\n

Within seconds, William pinned Ray face-down on the floorboards, his knee pressing firmly against my stepfather\u2019s spine. The gun lay discarded near the fireplace. Shaking uncontrollably, I grabbed my phone and dialed the police. By the time the sheriff arrived, the nightmare was finally over. Ray was dragged away in handcuffs, screaming empty threats into the freezing night, securely locking away the last lingering ghost of my abusive past.<\/p>\n

When the lights disappeared down the snowy road, William pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck. His heart was hammering wildly against my chest. That was the exact moment I realized he wasn’t just my protector; he was my partner, and we were hopelessly anchored to one another.<\/p>\n

As winter fully descended, the walls between us disappeared entirely. My meager belongings slowly migrated from the isolated cabin into his sprawling main house. It wasn’t always a perfect fairytale. We were two deeply scarred men trying to navigate our traumas. We had to learn how to argue, how to effectively communicate our darkest insecurities, and, most importantly, how to forgive. We healed each other\u2019s hidden wounds, stitch by painful stitch.<\/p>\n

One crisp afternoon in late December, William drove me up a winding mountain trail to a breathtaking lookout point. The entire snow-draped valley stretched out infinitely below us, glittering like crushed diamonds under the winter sun. I knew this place held profound weight for him. It was the sacred spot where he used to bring Emma and Sophie to watch the golden sunsets before his ex-wife selfishly tore his family apart.<\/p>\n

William stepped up behind me, wrapping his strong, warm arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, looking out at the endless horizon.<\/p>\n

“I spent three years coming up here to mourn a past I couldn’t possibly change,” William murmured gently, turning me around to face him. He reached out, his calloused thumbs tenderly tracing my cheekbones. “But I’m done looking backward, Alex. I am actively choosing to look toward the future. And my future is you. I choose you.”<\/p>\n

Tears blurred my vision as I pulled him down into a deeply passionate, soul-altering kiss. “I love you,” I whispered against his lips, the words feeling undeniably right.<\/p>\n

“I love you too,” he replied, his eyes shining with profound sincerity.<\/p>\n

The story that began in fear culminated on New Year\u2019s Eve. We sat closely together by the roaring fireplace in the main house, two glasses of champagne resting on the table. Outside, the world was frozen and harsh, but inside, I had finally discovered absolute warmth. From two broken people harboring deep, bleeding wounds, we had miraculously forged a real sanctuary. In William\u2019s arms, I finally realized that the most powerful words he ever spoke weren’t “He’s with me” to save my life, but rather the silent, daily promise that we were walking this beautiful, messy journey together.<\/p>\n

What do you think of this story? Please leave a like and share your thoughts in the comments. Your support means a lot to us and inspires us to keep writing more meaningful and powerful stories. Thank you! \ud83d\udc4d\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Part 1 The piercing sound of shattered glass echoed through the desolate garage. My name is Alexander Miller. I\u2019m an eighteen-year-old mechanic at Pearson\u2019s auto shop, a gay teenager just trying to survive in a town that despises anything different. I live in a cramped, rotting trailer, keeping my head down and my secrets buried. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":68501,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-68465","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-purpose"],"yoast_head":"\n"I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you're going to help me." - He's With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me. - 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=68465\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\""I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you're going to help me." - He's With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me. - Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Part 1 The piercing sound of shattered glass echoed through the desolate garage. My name is Alexander Miller. I\u2019m an eighteen-year-old mechanic at Pearson\u2019s auto shop, a gay teenager just trying to survive in a town that despises anything different. I live in a cramped, rotting trailer, keeping my head down and my secrets buried. […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-05-28T03:35:13+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"558\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"1000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Phong Nguyen\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Phong Nguyen\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"9 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465\",\"name\":\"\\\"I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you're going to help me.\\\" - He's With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me. - Purposeful Days\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-05-28T03:35:13+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/4bbf0aec017fee1fb5027b7c39e98951\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg\",\"width\":558,\"height\":1000},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"“I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you’re going to help me.” – He’s With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me.\"}]},{\"@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\/4bbf0aec017fee1fb5027b7c39e98951\",\"name\":\"Phong Nguyen\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/9e2b64a6c1ed5f8027bfe6755272684b8d3b9607a7de613d6bdb22d00442333c?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/9e2b64a6c1ed5f8027bfe6755272684b8d3b9607a7de613d6bdb22d00442333c?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Phong Nguyen\"},\"sameAs\":[\"http:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\"],\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=3\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"\"I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you're going to help me.\" - He's With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me. - 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=68465","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"\"I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you're going to help me.\" - He's With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me. - Purposeful Days","og_description":"Part 1 The piercing sound of shattered glass echoed through the desolate garage. My name is Alexander Miller. I\u2019m an eighteen-year-old mechanic at Pearson\u2019s auto shop, a gay teenager just trying to survive in a town that despises anything different. I live in a cramped, rotting trailer, keeping my head down and my secrets buried. […]","og_url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465","og_site_name":"Purposeful Days","article_published_time":"2026-05-28T03:35:13+00:00","og_image":[{"width":558,"height":1000,"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Phong Nguyen","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Phong Nguyen","Est. reading time":"9 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465","name":"\"I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you're going to help me.\" - He's With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me. - Purposeful Days","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg","datePublished":"2026-05-28T03:35:13+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/4bbf0aec017fee1fb5027b7c39e98951"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Man_confronting_attackers_with_t\u2026_202605281033.jpeg","width":558,"height":1000},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=68465#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"“I owe fifty grand to people who like breaking legs, and you’re going to help me.” – He’s With Me: I thought the brutal beating at the auto shop was my darkest hour, until my abusive stepfather returned with a loaded gun. The millionaire who saved me once was now staring down a barrel because he refused to abandon me."}]},{"@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\/4bbf0aec017fee1fb5027b7c39e98951","name":"Phong Nguyen","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/9e2b64a6c1ed5f8027bfe6755272684b8d3b9607a7de613d6bdb22d00442333c?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/9e2b64a6c1ed5f8027bfe6755272684b8d3b9607a7de613d6bdb22d00442333c?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Phong Nguyen"},"sameAs":["http:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org"],"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=3"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/68465","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\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=68465"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/68465\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":68502,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/68465\/revisions\/68502"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/68501"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=68465"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=68465"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=68465"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}