{"id":1043,"date":"2026-05-26T14:34:15","date_gmt":"2026-05-26T14:34:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/?p=1043"},"modified":"2026-05-26T14:34:15","modified_gmt":"2026-05-26T14:34:15","slug":"my-brother-said-that-my-9-year-old-daughter-was-n","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/?p=1043","title":{"rendered":"My Brother Said That My 9-Year-Old Daughter Was \u201cN\u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"
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My Brother Said That My 9-Year-Old Daughter Was \u201cNot Up To Their Level\u201d And Could Not Be In His Wedd<\/h2>\n

My Brother Said That My 9-Year-Old Daughter Was \u201cNot Up To Their Level\u201d And Could Not Be In His Wedd<\/p>\n

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My brother said that my 9-year-old daughter was not up to their level and could not be in his wedding photos. She was 9 years old. She asked me why her uncle said that. I told her she was perfect. Then I withdrew the $22,000 I had already transferred for his honeymoon rehearsal dinner and gifts for the groomsmen.<\/p>\n

His [music] best man called me. The cards were declined for everything. I said coldly, \u201cI know.\u201d My brother\u2019s wedding day started at 7:18 a.m. in the bridal suite of the Hampton Inn in Durham, North Carolina with hairspray in the air and my daughter\u2019s little patent shoes lined up like soldiers. \u201cMom, do I look fancy?\u201d Pamela asked spinning once in the mirror.<\/p>\n

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\u201cYou look perfect,\u201d I said, pinning a loose curl behind her ear. The door was half open. People kept floating in and out like it was a train station. My brother Greg\u2019s best man, Derek, walked past carrying garment bags. My mom hovered with a steaming travel mug. My brother\u2019s fiance, Grace, sat in a white robe while a makeup artist stabbed under her eyes.<\/p>\n

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Pamela clutched a tiny bouquet someone had made for her out of leftover baby\u2019s breath. She\u2019d been practicing her smile all week. Teeth showing, chin down, eyes bright. At 9:02 a.m. Greg walked in. He looked good. Trimmed beard, navy suit, the kind of confident posture he only had when he was being celebrated. He spotted Pamela and paused like he\u2019d found a piece from the wrong puzzle.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, kiddo,\u201d [music] he said, not unkind, just careful. Pamela beamed. \u201cHi, Uncle Greg.\u201d Grace\u2019s sister, Tori, leaned toward me and whispered, \u201cShe\u2019s adorable.\u201d I mouthed, \u201cThank you.\u201d The photographer, a woman named April with a camera harness and a clipboard, tapped her pen. \u201cOkay, we\u2019re doing family photos at 10 15.<\/p>\n

Immediate family first, then bridal party.\u201d Greg adjusted his cufflinks. \u201cCool. One thing.\u201d April looked up. \u201cYep.\u201d Greg\u2019s eyes slid to Pamela again. He didn\u2019t look at her the way you look at a kid you love. He looked at her like a variable. \u201cPamela can\u2019t be in the wedding photos,\u201d he said. I blinked.<\/p>\n

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\u201cWhat?\u201d Grace\u2019s makeup brush stopped midair. The room went quiet in that specific way that means everyone heard and nobody wants to be the one to respond. Greg cleared his throat like he was about [music] to explain a budget line item. \u201cShe\u2019s not up to their level.\u201d My mouth went dry. \u201cTheir level?\u201d Grace finally looked at me through the mirror.<\/p>\n

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Her expression was neutral, practiced. [music] \u201cIt\u2019s just the vibe,\u201d she said, soft like she was offering a reasonable compromise. Pamela\u2019s smile faded, [music] slow. She looked at me, then at Greg. \u201cUncle Greg?\u201d she asked. \u201cWhat level?\u201d I felt my hands go cold. My brain started counting the way it does when it\u2019s trying to stay functional.<\/p>\n

One child, one brother, one photographer, too many adults pretending this was normal. Greg kept his tone calm, almost [music] annoyed that feelings existed. \u201cPamela, sweetie, it\u2019s not about you. It\u2019s just important people are here.\u201d Pamela\u2019s fingers tightened around the little bouquet. She didn\u2019t cry. She just got very still.<\/p>\n

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I stepped closer to her and put my hand on her shoulder. Her skin was warm under my palm. Mine felt like ice. \u201cShe\u2019s nine,\u201d I said. Greg sighed like I was making this complicated. \u201cYeah. And this is our day.\u201d Pamela whispered, barely audible. \u201cDid I do something bad?\u201d That sentence hit my ribs like a punch.<\/p>\n

My throat burned. I crouched so my eyes were level with hers. \u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cYou didn\u2019t do anything. You are perfect. Do you hear me?\u201d Her eyes stayed on mine, searching. \u201cThen why did he say that?\u201d I stood up. I looked straight [music] at Greg, and I didn\u2019t scream. I did math because 3 days earlier, on Wednesday, [music] February 19th at 6: 43 p.m.<\/p>\n

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, I had transferred $22,000 from my checking account at Truist to cover his honeymoon deposit, the rehearsal dinner catering, and gifts for the groomsmen, because Greg texted me, \u201cSis, you\u2019re literally saving us. I\u2019ll pay you back after the wedding.\u201d My hands were still cold when I pulled my phone out. Greg noticed and frowned. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d \u201cFixing something,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

I walked out of the bridal suite with Pamela, my heels clicking too loud in the hallway. \u201cMom?\u201d she asked, small. \u201cI\u2019m right here,\u201d I said. \u201cStay with me.\u201d In the elevator, my fingers shook so hard I missed the button once. Pamela watched my face like it was a forecast. When we got to the lobby, I sat on a couch near the fake fireplace, opened my banking app, and stared at the transfer history.<\/p>\n

Pamela sat beside me, swinging her feet, quiet, too quiet. I withdrew the $22,000 I had already transferred for his honeymoon, rehearsal dinner, and gifts for the groomsmen. At 9: 27 a.m., my phone rang. Derek\u2019s name lit up the screen. I answered on the first ring. His voice came out sharp and panicked. \u201cHey, uh so the cards were declined for everything.<\/p>\n

\u201d I stared at the hotel carpet pattern like it might tell me how to breathe. I said coldly, \u201cI know. My name is Christina. I am 34 years old and work as a sales representative for a pharmaceutical supply company in Raleigh. I am not rich. I am simply an organized person and do not allow my life to drift along with the tide.<\/p>\n

Pamela is nine, third grade, loves chapter books and those tiny erasers shaped like fruit. She\u2019s the kind of kid who says, \u201cExcuse me.\u201d to the dog when she needs to get by. Greg is 31, my little brother. Charming in a way that\u2019s fun until it\u2019s weaponized. He\u2019s always had this gift of making his problems [music] sound like your responsibility.<\/p>\n

Our family language is full of soft words for hard things. Be flexible. Don\u2019t make it a scene. Help him out. He\u2019s under stress. Family helps. When Greg proposed to Grace last summer, my mom cried and said, \u201cThis is the fresh start he needed.\u201d Greg immediately started texting me like I\u2019d been promoted to wedding finance. The first time was August 3rd, 2025.<\/p>\n

Greg, can you spot me $1,500 for the venue deposit? Grace\u2019s dad is weird about money and it\u2019s embarrassing. Me, \u201cWhy are you paying the deposit if her family is the one with money?\u201d Greg, \u201cIt\u2019s just optics. I\u2019ll pay you back.\u201d He didn\u2019t. September 14th, he called me while I was in the pickup line at Pamela\u2019s school.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d he said, voice bright. \u201cQuick favor.\u201d There are two kinds of quick favors. The kind that means, \u201cCan you grab ice?\u201d >> [music] >> and the kind that means, \u201cCan you set yourself on fire to keep me warm? I\u2019m in the car line, I said. Perfect, Greg replied like that made it easier to manipulate me.<\/p>\n

So, we found a photographer we love. But they want half up front. Can you put it on your card and we\u2019ll pay you back after we get wedding gifts? I stared at the dashboard. Pamela\u2019s teacher waved as kids climbed [music] into cars. I felt my stomach tighten. I already gave you money, I said. Greg laughed. You\u2019re my sister. Don\u2019t be weird.<\/p>\n

That phrase, don\u2019t be weird, is one he\u2019s used since we were teenagers. It means, don\u2019t set boundaries. [music] I swallowed it because Pamela was in the backseat listening to every word even when she looked like she wasn\u2019t. Fine, I said. Send me the invoice. He did. 3,000. $200 paid. October 22nd, Grace texted me directly.<\/p>\n

Grace, Hey Christina, can you do the rehearsal dinner? Greg says you\u2019re really good at planning. We want it nice but simple. Nice but simple is wedding code for expensive but don\u2019t complain. I said yes anyway because I was still stuck in the old role. Keep it smooth. Don\u2019t make it a scene. Then came the incident that should have snapped me awake.<\/p>\n

December 7th, we were at my mom\u2019s house for an early Christmas dinner. Pamela wore a green dress with tiny gold stars. She\u2019d picked it herself. Grace\u2019s mom, Diane, looked Pamela up and down and said smiling, Ah, she\u2019s cute. Not beautiful, not lovely. Cute like a puppy with muddy paws. Greg leaned over and whispered to me, Make sure Pamela doesn\u2019t get too loud tonight.<\/p>\n

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Grace\u2019s family is particular. Pamela heard him. I know she did because her shoulders went stiff and she folded her hands in her lap like she was at a funeral. After dinner in the kitchen, I finally said it. Greg, you keep talking about Grace\u2019s family like they\u2019re judges. Greg rolled his eyes. You don\u2019t get it.<\/p>\n

They\u2019re on a different level. Different level. The phrase was already rehearsed in him months before the wedding day. I should have seen that. I thought it was temporary. It wasn\u2019t. By January, Greg was sending me spreadsheets. Actual spreadsheets. Look, he said on a Sunday call. We\u2019re just short-term cash flowing, but after the wedding we\u2019ll have gifts and checks and we\u2019ll settle up.<\/p>\n

I remember staring at my own kitchen table, Pamela coloring beside me, and thinking, he\u2019s talking like a businessman, but I\u2019m the one paying. I was swallowing it because I thought that\u2019s what you do for family. Meanwhile, Pamela was learning to shrink. She\u2019d started asking me questions before family events. Mom, she\u2019d say, voice careful, what are the rules again? And I\u2019d answer like I was training her for a high-stakes interview instead of a wedding.<\/p>\n

Say congratulations, don\u2019t interrupt. Stay close to me. Don\u2019t touch anything that isn\u2019t yours. One night she asked, is Uncle Greg mad at me? I laughed too fast. No, of course not. But my chest hurt when I said it. After Derek\u2019s call, I didn\u2019t move from that lobby couch for a full 10 seconds. My brain did that thing where it tries to keep you from panicking by giving you tasks.<\/p>\n

Breathe, count. Hold your face still. Pamela watched me, rabbit still, bouquet in her lap like it had turned into a burden. Mom, she said, are we leaving? Yes, I said. We\u2019re leaving. My phone buzzed immediately after I hung up with Derek. Greg, what the hell did you do? I didn\u2019t reply. Then another buzz. Grace, Christina, this is not the time for drama.<\/p>\n

I stared at that message until the words stopped looking like words and started looking like proof. Receipts folder. That\u2019s what I called it in my head. I opened a new note on my phone and started listing. 9:02 a.m. Greg, not up to their level. Excluded from photos. [music] 9:27 a.m. Derek called. Cards declined. I took screenshots of the bank withdrawal confirmation.<\/p>\n

The exact amount, >> [music] >> the timestamp, the transaction ID. Then my phone rang again. This time, it was my mother. I answered because part of me still had that reflex. Her voice came out low and urgent. Christina, what is going on? What\u2019s going on? I said. Greg told my to their level. My mom exhaled like she was irritated at me for saying it out loud.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

He didn\u2019t mean it like that. How did he mean it? I asked. Silence. Then she tried the family language. Honey, it\u2019s his wedding. Don\u2019t make a scene. I looked at Pamela. Her eyes were down. She was rubbing the baby\u2019s breath between her fingers like [music] she was trying to disappear. I\u2019m not making a scene, I said. I\u2019m leaving.<\/p>\n

Christina, my mom started. I am not available for explaining my child\u2019s worth to grown adults, I said. Tell Greg to stop calling me. I ended the call. Pamela swallowed. Am I embarrassing? She asked like she hated herself for even saying it. My heart did that heavy drop thing. I turned my whole body toward her. No, I said. You are not embarrassing.<\/p>\n

They are being cruel.\u201d She blinked hard. \u201cBut Uncle Greg is family.\u201d I nodded once. \u201cYes, and family doesn\u2019t get a free pass to hurt you.\u201d We walked out of that hotel together. I carried her little jacket. She carried nothing because she was nine, and she shouldn\u2019t have to carry other people\u2019s ugliness.<\/p>\n

Outside, [music] the sky was bright and cold. Wedding guests were arriving in heels and suits, [music] laughing, holding garment bags, acting like love was the only thing happening today. As I buckled Pamela into the backseat of my Honda CRV, my phone started lighting up like a slot machine.<\/p>\n

Derek, Christina, please call me back. Greg, answer me. Grace, you\u2019re ruining Elia\u2019s dream. Pamela whispered. \u201cAre they going to be mad at us?\u201d \u201cThey can be mad,\u201d I said, starting the car. \u201cThey can feel whatever they want. We\u2019re still leaving.\u201d I drove to the nearest Truist branch because my brain wanted a physical receipt, not just a digital one.<\/p>\n

I wanted paper. I wanted a teller. I wanted the universe to understand this was real. The teller printed the transaction history without blinking. I folded [music] it and put it in my purse next to Pamela\u2019s emergency snacks. Back in the car, I finally called Derek back because Derek wasn\u2019t the enemy. Derek was just the guy stuck holding the bag. He answered immediately.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cChristina, oh my god, what\u2019s happening?\u201d \u201cWe\u2019re at the florist and the card got declined.\u201d \u201cThen the catering company called and Greg is freaking out.\u201d [music] \u201cI withdrew the money,\u201d I said. Derek\u2019s voice went thin. \u201cWhy?\u201d \u201cBecause my brother told my nine-year-old she\u2019s not up to their level.\u201d \u201cUp how is that?\u201d \u201cWhat did he say?\u201d Derek asked, quieter now.<\/p>\n

I repeated it exactly. \u201cNot up to their level. She can\u2019t be in the wedding photos.\u201d Derek exhaled hard. \u201cJesus, I\u2019m not arguing about it.\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m not negotiating. I\u2019m not explaining.\u201d [music] Greg said you promised. Derek said like he was trying to find the lever that would make me fold. \u201cI did promise.\u201d I said. \u201cAnd then he showed me who he is.<\/p>\n

\u201d Derek tried again. Softer. \u201cChristina, there are contracts, deposits, [music] people are going to be calling.\u201d \u201cThey can call Greg.\u201d I said. \u201cHe is the groom.\u201d Then Derek said the line I\u2019ll never forget because it was so [music] casually revealing. \u201cLook.\u201d he said. \u201cGrace\u2019s family is going to be embarrassed.<\/p>\n

\u201d I felt my mouth curve into something that wasn\u2019t a smile. \u201cGood.\u201d I said. I ended the call. Then the [music] next wave hit. Greg called. I answered because I wanted him to hear my voice calm, even, not begging. \u201cWhat did you do?\u201d he snapped like I\u2019d stolen from him. \u201cI withdrew my money.\u201d I said. \u201cYour money?\u201d Greg barked a laugh.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was for my wedding.\u201d \u201cIt was for your wedding.\u201d I agreed. \u201cBecause you asked me to pay for things you couldn\u2019t afford.\u201d \u201cYou can\u2019t do this today.\u201d he said. \u201cThis is insane.\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s insane?\u201d I said. \u201cIs you humiliating a 9-year-old.\u201d \u201cI didn\u2019t humiliate her.\u201d he shot back. \u201cI was protecting the aesthetic. These photos are forever.<\/p>\n

\u201d I looked in the rearview mirror. Pamela was staring out the window. Silent, shoulders [music] tight. \u201cGreg.\u201d I said. \u201cTell me exactly what you meant by not up to their level.\u201d He didn\u2019t answer directly. He tried to reframe. \u201cYou\u2019re overreacting.\u201d he said. \u201cYou always do this. You take something and make it into a moral crusade.<\/p>\n

I kept my voice steady. Where is Pamela in your wedding day? She\u2019s with you. He said impatiently. No, I said. Where is she in your family? He got quiet. Then he said it, finally, like he thought honesty would end the conversation. She\u2019s not part of it like that. He said. Grace\u2019s family is paying attention. They don\u2019t understand issues.<\/p>\n

Issues? >> [music] >> I repeated. She\u2019s intense, he said. She asks too many questions. She doesn\u2019t act like they\u2019re kids. Pamela had asked Grace\u2019s niece once, \u201cDo you like [music] dogs?\u201d That was her crime. I felt something click into place in me. Not rage. Clarity. \u201cYou are not safe for my child,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

Greg\u2019s voice [music] went sharp. \u201cDon\u2019t be dramatic.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m being exact,\u201d I said. \u201cYou don\u2019t get access to her if you talk about her like she\u2019s a problem.\u201d \u201cSo, you\u2019re punishing me?\u201d He said, changing tactics. \u201cOver photos?\u201d \u201cI\u2019m protecting my daughter,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd also, [music] yes, the money is gone.\u201d Greg\u2019s breathing got loud.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe already charged things.\u201d \u201cWe already\u201d \u201cI know,\u201d I said. \u201cThat\u2019s why the cards declined.\u201d \u201cChristina!\u201d He said. Voice suddenly pleading. \u201cYou can\u2019t do this. You\u2019re going to screw us.\u201d I stared at the road and let my voice go colder. \u201cYou screwed yourselves when you decided my child was beneath you.<\/p>\n

\u201d Then I said the sentence I didn\u2019t even know I\u2019d been holding. \u201cI\u2019m done auditioning.\u201d And I hung up. That\u2019s when I stopped arguing and started documenting. I pulled into a parking lot, opened my email, and searched Greg\u2019s messages. There it was. His text from Wednesday. \u201cTransfer it today so we can run [music] the cards this weekend.\u201d I screenshotted it.<\/p>\n

I opened Grace\u2019s messages. We need the groomsmen [music] gifts by Friday. Screenshot. I opened the wedding group chat where Greg had sent the honeymoon link with Christina\u2019s got us. Thank God. Screenshot. Then I created a folder in my phone called receipts and dropped everything in it like I was building a case file.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Pamela from the [music] backseat finally spoke. Are we still going to the wedding? She asked, voice tiny. I turned to look at her. No, I said gently. We\u2019re not. She nodded once like she\u2019d expected [music] it. That part made me feel sick. That quiet acceptance [music] told me everything about what she\u2019d already learned from being around them.<\/p>\n

I started the car again >> [music] >> and I made a quiet plan. I didn\u2019t go home. I went to the place my sister-in-law to be controlled best, the family group chat. At 12:11 p.m. I pulled into a grocery store parking lot so I wouldn\u2019t explode. Pamela sat beside me eating a granola bar. Mom, are you mad? I\u2019m calm.<\/p>\n

I said. Calm isn\u2019t the same as okay. I opened Greg and Grace wedding weekend and wrote one sentence. I attached three screenshots, the transfer, the withdrawal confirmation, >> [music] >> and Greg\u2019s text telling me to send it so the cards could be run. Since Greg told my 9-year-old she\u2019s not up to their level and can\u2019t be in family photos, I withdrew the $22,000 I paid for the honeymoon, rehearsal dinner, and groomsmen gifts.<\/p>\n

Do not contact me or Pamela today. 30 seconds of silence. Then chaos. Mom. Christina. What is wrong with you? Dad, call me now. Grace. You\u2019re lying. Greg. Delete that. Diane. Grace\u2019s mom. We don\u2019t appreciate being threatened. Threatened? I stared at the word. Derek called again. Unknown numbers followed. I ignored them. Mom texted privately.<\/p>\n

You are humiliating your brother. Fix this. I replied with one word. No. Then I made it irreversible. I opened my banking app and locked the card Greg had for emergencies. I removed him as an authorized user. I forwarded every vendor invoice I\u2019d paid to Greg with one line. Per today\u2019s decision to exclude my child, all future payments are your responsibility.<\/p>\n

I CC\u2019d Grace and my mom. No emotions, just clarity. Voicemails started. Derek, Christina, please. Greg is losing it. Grace\u2019s dad is screaming at the coordinator. They\u2019re saying you stole. Please call me back. Stole what? I saved the voicemail. Pamela whispered, are we in trouble? No, I said, hand on her knee. We\u2019re safe. They can be mad.<\/p>\n

They\u2019re not allowed to be mean to you. At 12:41 p.m., Greg texted. If you don\u2019t fix this, don\u2019t ever talk to me again. A threat dressed as a boundary. >> [music] >> I wrote back, agreed. Do not contact me or Pamela. We won\u2019t be attending. If you need money, ask the people whose level matters to you.<\/p>\n

Then I blocked Greg, blocked Grace, and muted the chat. The car felt quiet in a new way. Access removed. That night, we ordered pizza and ate in pajamas. Halfway through, Pamela asked, are you sad? I\u2019m sad Uncle Greg chose that. I\u2019m not sad about protecting you, I said. Then she asked, am I really not their level? Levels are something insecure adults invent so they can can cruel without admitting it, I told her.<\/p>\n

Sunday morning my mom showed up with a grocery store cake that said, \u201cCongrats, Greg and Grace.\u201d Like nothing happened. I didn\u2019t invite her in. \u201cYou embarrassed the family.\u201d She said. \u201cGreg embarrassed himself.\u201d I replied. \u201cYou ruined his wedding.\u201d \u201cHe ruined his relationship with his niece.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m not negotiating that.<\/p>\n

\u201d Mom tried the soft voice. \u201cHe didn\u2019t mean it.\u201d \u201cHe was stressed.\u201d \u201cThen he can apologize to Pamela.\u201d \u201cHe won\u2019t.\u201d \u201cHe thinks you overreacted.\u201d \u201cThen this stays.\u201d \u201cSo that\u2019s it?\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re cutting off your brother.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m cutting off access to my child.\u201d I said. \u201cThat\u2019s the difference.\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re teaching Pamela to be unforgiving.<\/p>\n

\u201d \u201cI\u2019m teaching her love doesn\u2019t require auditions.\u201d She left the cake on my porch like a punishment. After she drove off, Pamela asked, \u201cDo we have to eat it?\u201d \u201cNo.\u201d I said. We threw it away together. Not dramatic, just done. Two weeks later, Greg emailed from a new address. \u201cWe should move on.\u201d Three sentences. \u201cI made a big deal out of nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201d \u201cGrace\u2019s family still talks.\u201d \u201cI owe them an apology.\u201d Nothing for Pamela. Just reputation management. I didn\u2019t answer. I printed it and filed it with my receipts. One night, Pamela climbed into my bed and whispered, \u201cI like our level.\u201d \u201cMe, too.\u201d I told her. If I were to draw conclusions, here\u2019s what I can say.<\/p>\n

It was never about money. If someone can rank a child and call her not their level, they don\u2019t deserve access to her at any level. I didn\u2019t raise my voice once. I just stopped funding people who could look at my kid like she was a problem. Quiet doesn\u2019t mean weak. It means final. For good, too. Ever. Ever. Ever.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My Brother Said That My 9-Year-Old Daughter Was \u201cNot Up To Their Level\u201d And Could Not Be In His Wedd My Brother Said That My 9-Year-Old Daughter Was \u201cNot Up … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1043","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1043","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1043"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1043\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1044,"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1043\/revisions\/1044"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1043"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1043"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ecolotic.store\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1043"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}