{"id":867,"date":"2025-12-18T10:34:54","date_gmt":"2025-12-18T10:34:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/?p=867"},"modified":"2025-12-18T10:34:57","modified_gmt":"2025-12-18T10:34:57","slug":"the-secret-ingredient-of-my-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/?p=867","title":{"rendered":"The Secret Ingredient of My Life"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<div class=\"wp-block-cover aligncenter is-light mycontentblock has-medium-font-size wp-duotone-abb8c3-ffffff-1\" style=\"margin-top:0;margin-bottom:var(--wp--preset--spacing--50);padding-top:0;padding-bottom:0;min-height:89px;aspect-ratio:unset;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"186\" class=\"wp-block-cover__image-background wp-image-198 size-large\" alt=\"\" src=\"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Screenshot-2025-12-04-at-2.47.25-PM-1-1024x186.png\" style=\"object-position:50% 50%\" data-object-fit=\"cover\" data-object-position=\"50% 50%\" srcset=\"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Screenshot-2025-12-04-at-2.47.25-PM-1-1024x186.png 1024w, https:\/\/vibepress.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Screenshot-2025-12-04-at-2.47.25-PM-1-300x54.png 300w, https:\/\/vibepress.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Screenshot-2025-12-04-at-2.47.25-PM-1-768x139.png 768w, https:\/\/vibepress.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Screenshot-2025-12-04-at-2.47.25-PM-1-1536x279.png 1536w, https:\/\/vibepress.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Screenshot-2025-12-04-at-2.47.25-PM-1-2048x372.png 2048w, https:\/\/vibepress.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/Screenshot-2025-12-04-at-2.47.25-PM-1-1320x239.png 1320w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><span aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-cover__background has-background-dim-0 has-background-dim\"><\/span><div class=\"wp-block-cover__inner-container is-layout-constrained wp-container-core-cover-is-layout-4d396166 wp-block-cover-is-layout-constrained\">\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center my-cover-title has-ast-global-color-8-color has-ast-global-color-5-background-color has-text-color has-background has-link-color has-small-font-size wp-elements-cf2a6baab3634e15c2d9e1118e55e39e\"><strong>The Secret Ingredient of My Life<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-318ca1a21ac545f1c6f876214fc723bc\">My mother-in-law, Patricia, and I, well, we\u2019ve always been oil and water. The main, and seemingly insurmountable, obstacle in our relationship was my diet. I\u2019ve been happily vegan for over ten years, a choice she viewed not as a personal preference,<strong> but as a deliberate insult to her entire culinary legacy, which mostly involved various roasts and creamy casseroles. <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<script type=\"text\/javascript\">\n    atOptions = {\n        'key' : '9e49f4ce267f7bab92bbdb38b733742b',\n        'format' : 'iframe',\n        'height' : 90,\n        'width' : 728,\n        'params' : {}\n    };\n<\/script>\n<script type=\"text\/javascript\" src=\"\/\/brillianceremisswhistled.com\/9e49f4ce267f7bab92bbdb38b733742b\/invoke.js\"><\/script>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-76d596044dc71a32b745c04e19060034\">My husband, Robert, bless his heart, <strong>tried to mediate, but even he couldn\u2019t bridge the chasm between a committed plant-based eater<\/strong> and a woman who believed vegetables were merely decoration for a plate of meat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-b0e1cf8bb20699f3e66e3a8c7b8e9b63\">When I first told Patricia I was pregnant, I expected excitement, maybe a hug. What I got was a look of profound disappointment, followed by a lecture. She immediately pivoted from criticizing my lack of protein to demanding I change my lifestyle for \u201cthe good of her grandchild.\u201d She spoke of my baby as though I were merely incubating it for her, not as a child Robert and I were creating and raising together.<strong> Her tone became more insistent, more territorial, especially about the upcoming birth.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-75407d7942a234cb9f99e98e19d57081\">\u201cYou must have a natural birth, of course,\u201d she declared during one particularly tense Sunday dinner, staring pointedly at the small, salad-heavy plate I\u2019d brought for myself. \u201cAnd you simply must start eating meat. It\u2019s for the baby\u2019s brain development. They need the nutrients.\u201d Her voice had that brittle edge of absolute certainty that always made my shoulders tense up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-386b76c7cd95a503d3100c10d0bfe4f2\">The arguments escalated. She started dropping veiled, and sometimes not-so-veiled, threats about \u201cgrandparent rights,\u201d mentioning lawyers and court battles. It was emotionally exhausting and deeply unfair. Robert was furious with her but felt caught between his wife and his mother. I knew I needed to create a buffer, a wall of protection for myself and my growing baby, especially as my due date drew closer. I couldn\u2019t handle the constant stress and the feeling of being controlled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-2ccd1702bbe80e378da7d7fb875e14a9\">So, I did the only thing I could think of to buy some peace: I lied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-fce1b25920f7b0a21f5702ac34be6514\">One Tuesday afternoon, while she was helping Robert organize the nursery\u2014a task I felt she was overstepping on, but tolerated for Robert\u2019s sake\u2014I mentioned it casually. \u201cI actually had a craving for a burger yesterday, Patricia,\u201d I said, trying to sound nonchalant, like someone who\u2019d just discovered the joy of beef after a decade. \u201cI think the baby is craving meat, so I decided to listen. I\u2019m back to eating meat, just for the pregnancy, you know. For the nutrients.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-5b505355f5b4e8f8f3e8d57550ddefdc\">The immediate change in her demeanor was shocking. Her face softened, her eyes lost that permanent, critical squint. It was as if I\u2019d finally passed some crucial, unspoken test. \u201cOh, thank goodness, dear,\u201d she sighed, actually pulling me into a slightly awkward hug. \u201cI knew you\u2019d come to your senses. It\u2019s the right decision for the baby. A proper grandchild.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-9c34ae8bc53b29bb668fbb78e21a8cd8\">The lie bought me instant, blessed silence on the dietary front. Every time she invited us over, she made a huge show of preparing a meaty dish just for me, which I had to politely decline, citing morning sickness or a sudden aversion. I\u2019d quietly sneak my own specially prepared vegan food into a container and eat it privately, or claim I\u2019d already eaten. Robert was in on the ruse, of course, and he helped cover for me, making sure Patricia didn\u2019t catch me eating my regular meals. He understood that this little deception was crucial for my mental health during the pregnancy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-51f9311662f67362e15dba76986c9f7d\">The constant tension surrounding my diet had dissipated, but Patricia\u2019s need for control simply shifted focus. Now, her energy was entirely directed toward the birth plan. She started sending me articles about the superiority of unmedicated home births, despite the fact that I had a high-risk pregnancy and my doctor insisted on a hospital delivery. She seemed to view the hospital as some kind of hostile takeover, constantly criticizing my chosen obstetrician and demanding I switch to someone she knew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-c1f246207c5c09cb59614f646d5d7b11\">\u201cThat doctor is too clinical, dear,\u201d she insisted, calling me daily to lecture. \u201cYou need a gentle, spiritual birth. I had all mine at home, and look how healthy Robert turned out!\u201d Robert, who was usually a picture of patience, had started taking her calls on silent. It was almost comical, the way she micromanaged every detail, yet it still made my anxiety spike every time I heard her voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-b4dc1fb004692108503d694d3b36d80c\">Finally, the day arrived. My water broke early one crisp autumn morning. Robert, a nervous wreck but completely wonderful, rushed me to the hospital. We decided not to tell Patricia until after the baby was born. We needed those crucial, quiet hours just for us. It turned out to be a long, difficult labor, exactly the kind that required all the medical expertise available. After many hours, our beautiful daughter, Lily, arrived, healthy and perfect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-cf158f3d042aff5da57d796b18e5422f\">Robert, beaming, made the first call to his mother. \u201cShe\u2019s here, Mom! Lily is perfect. And Elizabeth is doing great.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-e7418905e5a1340471903bd3736e3b85\">Patricia arrived at the hospital an hour later, breathless and armed with a baby outfit that looked suspiciously like a tiny, stiff tuxedo. She completely ignored me, focusing entirely on the tiny, swaddled bundle in the bassinet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-5fd5baa256c1064c8c79be4318a91307\">\u201cOh, my little Lily-bug,\u201d she cooed, her face pressed to the glass. \u201cYou must be starving! What is Elizabeth feeding her?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-793f622f139ed092202f14ebbed2154b\">\u201cJust the usual, Mom,\u201d Robert said quickly, trying to guide her attention back to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-a3e59fdb58c8e570ac6bac49226df256\">I decided right then that the lie needed to continue, at least for a while. The thought of reigniting the diet wars while recovering and learning to care for a newborn was too much. Plus, I was exclusively breastfeeding, and I knew Patricia would have plenty of opinions on that, too. If she thought I was eating meat, maybe she\u2019d believe I was producing the \u201cright\u201d kind of milk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-dd87edbccfd4526fdcd685e5efb9a6cd\">\u201cIt\u2019s been a rough few days,\u201d I told her, lying back against my pillows. \u201cThe doctor wants me to take it easy. They even brought me a steak just now for the protein.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-f8469d05486670e4835974a359b35421\">Patricia nodded approvingly, finally granting me a brief glance. \u201cGood, good. You listen to the doctors for once. The baby needs your strength.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-f8cf54e8f5e26b6ddec95b1135cfe6a1\">The months that followed were a delicate dance. Patricia was constantly around, wanting to \u201chelp,\u201d which often meant criticizing my choice of baby carrier or my schedule for naps. She\u2019d bring over huge, steaming casseroles and trays of roast chicken, insisting I eat every bite. I\u2019d thank her profusely, then discreetly package it up and give it to Robert\u2019s work colleague, John, who was a single dad and welcomed the home-cooked meals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-b4e13635671d8522ef950046345c6492\">One afternoon, about six months after Lily was born, Patricia and I were at her house for lunch. Robert was at a conference, and I was trying to juggle a very active Lily and a plate of her famously heavy pot roast. I took a few bites, forcing a smile, feeling ill the whole time. Patricia was watching me like a hawk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-82baa54723db587a757e0fb992365dee\">\u201cYou look a little pale, dear,\u201d she said, leaning forward. \u201cAre you sure you\u2019re eating enough? Maybe you need some liver.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-6d1df433770989f12300192efdaef200\">\u201cI\u2019m fine, Patricia,\u201d I insisted, taking another forced bite. I was tired of the game, tired of the heavy, greasy food I had to pretend to enjoy. I decided right then I was done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-cf0f3a985b771d2d25a9aa3e93db2c6c\">\u201cActually,\u201d I said, setting my fork down, my voice firm but quiet. \u201cI need to tell you something. I haven\u2019t actually eaten any of this.\u201d I gestured to the pot roast. \u201cAnd I haven\u2019t eaten meat since before I got pregnant. I\u2019m still vegan, Patricia. I lied because I was stressed and needed peace.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-c82ad7d40f68bec3cb0c2b20425d0318\">The look on her face was a masterpiece of shock and fury. She opened her mouth to speak, and I braced myself for the explosion, the renewed threats about my parenting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-2b77fe66f056bfcee61e3684f3bd4308\">\u201cYou\u2026 you lied to me?\u201d she sputtered, her voice rising. \u201cFor all this time? And all this food I\u2019ve been making\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-d9c05bda0ae1f9aca77c3c50530b0214\">\u201cYes,\u201d I admitted simply. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, but I was pregnant and stressed, and you wouldn\u2019t stop with the threats and the demands. I needed to protect myself and my baby.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-9363e1e1270f9738567f12cbf9fe0a4c\">She slammed her hand on the table, making Lily jump in her high chair. \u201cThis is exactly what I mean! You\u2019re irresponsible! You can\u2019t even be honest with your family! Robert, get in here!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-cf03e71f74a6ad791e52707e574ca96a\">\u201cRobert\u2019s not here, Patricia. He\u2019s at a conference, remember?\u201d I said, standing up and reaching for Lily. \u201cLook, I know you\u2019re angry. But I am my daughter\u2019s mother, and my choices are mine. I\u2019m leaving now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-28171cf3d1ef5427b9d3faf351c92b81\">I went home, heart pounding, expecting a text storm of epic proportions. Robert called a few hours later, worried. I explained everything. He was supportive, but worried about the fallout. We agreed to limit contact for a week to let her cool down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-17ae47f94db5cf6e54253ba66d8772f6\">A week later, Robert received a cryptic text: \u201cTell Elizabeth to come to lunch next Sunday. No meat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-4ff161bd2b4866583bc473b898a97516\">We went, apprehensive. The air was thick with unspoken tension. Patricia had prepared a magnificent spread: a huge, colorful curry, a beautiful salad with a lemon dressing, and a crusty loaf of artisanal bread. It was the first time she had ever cooked vegan food for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-0a27379556c541834e00b2763a1b8d99\">\u201cI called John,\u201d she said abruptly, not meeting my eyes as she dished out the curry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-c041b8a8218b622d0d1e1747e79e41dd\">My blood ran cold. John, Robert\u2019s colleague, the single dad. Had she called him to find out what I was doing with the food? Had he spilled the beans?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-88297ab6ed3bdff42626611aad4d5307\">\u201cJohn?\u201d I asked, my voice barely a whisper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-84200e0eb4ad5332603753977984fa4d\">\u201cYes, John,\u201d she repeated, finally looking up. \u201cRobert told me you were giving him all the casseroles and roasts I made. So I called him. I asked him if the food was good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-63ea29ac573fce92ca9310a99222c2c8\">\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-827a0b6bfefee4d90d7775fd89bb03b7\">\u201cHe said it was the best food he\u2019d had since his wife passed,\u201d Patricia said, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat. \u201cHe said I was a lifesaver for him and his two boys. He asked me if I could maybe teach him how to make the pot roast.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-503ede32568c9aba53f7523f27346890\">She sighed and sat back in her chair, fiddling with her napkin. \u201cI realized something, Elizabeth. I\u2019ve been so focused on controlling you and your life, that I didn\u2019t stop to think about how I could actually be helpful. All that food was just wasted on you, but it was a true blessing to that family.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-2a9db5f0d2b5e105fbcbce04648640dc\">I didn\u2019t know what to say. The anger I had expected wasn\u2019t there; instead, there was a kind of weary recognition in her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-6db57dedc1eeccc9523b842125c7a416\">\u201cThis curry,\u201d she continued, pushing the bowl towards me. \u201cIt\u2019s my mother\u2019s recipe. I took out the ghee and used coconut oil, and I added extra lentils for protein. Robert said you liked spicy things.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-a6391d085570c2890be03fb1f7f239f8\">It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental. It wasn\u2019t an apology, not exactly, but it was an acknowledgment of my truth and a pivot to something productive. She was still Patricia, still controlling, but now she was trying to channel that energy into something positive: feeding people who actually needed her food, and adapting to my diet. She hadn\u2019t changed completely, but she had softened and redirected her focus. The desire to control me had been momentarily replaced by the satisfaction of being genuinely helpful to someone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-41fca7d79ee871a82f00e4268b890cbc\">Over the next few months, Patricia started volunteering at a local community kitchen that served vegan and vegetarian meals to the homeless. She told me about the recipes she was adapting and the people she was meeting. She still tried to micromanage my parenting, but now, when I told her, \u201cNo, thank you, I\u2019ve got this,\u201d she didn\u2019t argue; she just turned her attention to the community kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-5b467e9afcd89d6982af787617063f24\">The real twist, the surprising conclusion I hadn\u2019t anticipated, was not a grand reconciliation where she suddenly became my best friend. It was the slow, dawning realization that her need for control wasn\u2019t born of malice toward me, but a deep-seated, misplaced need to feel useful and important, a need that my pregnancy had simply amplified and distorted. The lie I told to protect myself had unintentionally created a circumstance where she found a better, healthier outlet for that need: service. She finally found a meaningful purpose that wasn\u2019t about imposing her will on me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-067a7704450fb845cdfff8a0c312866c\">I learned a powerful lesson from my mother-in-law, Patricia, and the whole saga of the secret vegan: Sometimes, the greatest peace is found not by winning a direct battle, but by changing the terrain of the fight. I had to let go of the need to convince her I was right and simply create a space where she could be right in her own way, a way that didn\u2019t involve controlling me. The lie, while born of desperation, created an unforeseen path for her to channel her powerful energy into a positive purpose, ultimately giving both of us the space we needed to be ourselves. I realized that setting a boundary isn\u2019t always about a confrontation; sometimes, it\u2019s about strategically redirecting the energy of the person standing too close. By doing that, I not only protected my family but unknowingly helped my mother-in-law find a new, meaningful part of her life. And my daughter, Lily, who is perfectly healthy and thriving on my vegan breast milk, is the living proof that I made the right choices all along.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-ast-global-color-8-color has-text-color has-link-color wp-elements-de292fc3ef25cdda2ed446cb06aefe45\"><strong>If this story resonated with you, I\u2019d love for you to share it with your friends and hit that like button!<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My mother-in-law, Patricia, and I, well, we\u2019ve always been oil and water. The main, and seemingly insurmountable, obstacle in our [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":868,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"disabled","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-867","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/867","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=867"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/867\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":869,"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/867\/revisions\/869"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/868"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=867"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=867"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vibepress.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=867"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}