{"id":5824,"date":"2026-09-01T17:11:09","date_gmt":"2026-09-01T17:11:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/?p=5824"},"modified":"2026-09-01T17:11:09","modified_gmt":"2026-09-01T17:11:09","slug":"on-our-10-year-anniversary-my-husband-wanted-an-open-marriage-so-i-taught-him-a-lesson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/?p=5824","title":{"rendered":"On Our 10 Year Anniversary My Husband Wanted An Open Marriage So I Taught Him A Lesson"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Ten years of marriage, and Dave chose to announce that he wanted to blow it up at a restaurant where the bread basket alone cost fourteen dollars.<\/p>\n

I want to be clear about the setting because it matters. He had made the reservation himself, which almost never happened. He had told me to wear something nice, which he said approximately twice a year and usually only when his company was hosting something client-facing. He had arranged for his mother to watch the kids for the evening. He had even, and this should have been my first warning, put on the jacket I liked.<\/p>\n

I sat across from him at a candlelit table in the kind of restaurant where the servers introduce themselves and describe the menu with the focused intensity of people who love what they do, and I thought, for approximately twenty minutes, that my husband had planned a romantic anniversary dinner.<\/p>\n

Then Dave said he\u2019d been thinking.<\/p>\n

This is where I should explain something about Dave and thinking. Dave is not a man who operates in half-measures when an idea takes hold. He committed to Christmas lights in July with the full conviction of someone who has discovered an efficiency the rest of the world has simply overlooked. He once decided, mid-renovation, that we should take down a wall between the kitchen and the living room because he had read somewhere that open floor plans increased property values, without mentioning this to me or to anyone with a contractor\u2019s license until there was already a significant hole in the drywall. He is a man of enthusiasms, and when an enthusiasm arrives, it arrives with flags.<\/p>\n

I set down my wine.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat have you been thinking?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know you\u2019re tired,\u201d he said. \u201cThe kids, the house, everything. You\u2019re always exhausted.\u201d<\/p>\n

This was true. I was tired. I worked full-time in marketing, I managed most of what happened inside our home, I had two children under ten, and I had not slept an uninterrupted eight hours since sometime around the second Obama administration. My tiredness was a documented and ongoing condition.<\/p>\n

I was not prepared for where he was about to take it.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I thought,\u201d he said, and there was something in his voice, a brightness, the brightness of a man presenting a solution he is proud of, \u201cthat maybe we should open up the relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

The candle between us flickered.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome again?\u201d<\/p>\n

He leaned forward with the energy of someone who has been storing this up and is relieved to finally release it. \u201cIf I\u2019m getting some of my needs met elsewhere, you won\u2019t feel as pressured. You can focus on the kids. It takes the weight off you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy needs,\u201d I said slowly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I mean.\u201d He gestured vaguely. \u201cReal women. Women who aren\u2019t so tired all the time. It would be like doing you a favor.\u201d<\/p>\n

Real women.<\/p>\n

I want to sit with that phrase for a moment, because I sat with it at the table for what felt like a very long time. Real women. As opposed to what I was, apparently. The tired woman across from him with the uneaten bread and the good dress and ten years of her actual real life given to this person and his children and his household and his wall that he decided to knock down on a Tuesday without consulting her.<\/p>\n

I felt something move through me. It started as hurt and moved through anger and arrived somewhere else entirely, somewhere colder and clearer and, frankly, more useful.<\/p>\n

I leaned back in my chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what, Dave? You\u2019re right.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked like a child who has just been told he can have ice cream for breakfast.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCompletely. As long as it goes both ways.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something crossed his face. A flicker. A brief moment of recalibration.<\/p>\n

Then he laughed and said, \u201cSure, why not?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

Dave, I thought. You have no idea what you\u2019ve just agreed to.<\/p>\n

\n

The week that followed was genuinely instructive.<\/p>\n

Dave approached the modern dating scene with the confidence of a man who believes he is more appealing than the market will confirm. He downloaded three apps in one afternoon. He spent an evening crafting what he described as a \u201csolid profile,\u201d which I saw briefly over his shoulder and which featured a photo from a company event two years ago that I had always thought was one of his better ones.<\/p>\n

Then the rejections began.<\/p>\n

I was folding laundry in the living room when he flopped onto the couch beside me with the expression of a man who has been personally wronged by the universe.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnother one canceled.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMm.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said she was taking a break from men.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat happens,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would someone be taking a break from men?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

He was looking at me with genuine bewilderment, as though I were a reference librarian who might have insight into this specific phenomenon.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe she sensed something,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDesperation, possibly.\u201d<\/p>\n

He did not take this well.<\/p>\n

The week produced several more variations on the same theme. A woman who asked several probing questions about his living situation and then stopped responding. A date that he described as promising until she mentioned, in passing, that her ex-husband was her business partner and they had lunch together daily. A third who sent an enthusiastic first message and then, upon learning he had children, sent a much less enthusiastic second one.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, my week had a completely different character.<\/p>\n

\n

Shawn worked two floors above me in the same building, in the tech division, and we had been friendly in the particular way of coworkers who share an elevator bank and occasionally end up at the same departmental events and discover, over several years of small conversations, that they like each other\u2019s company.<\/p>\n

He was funny. He was easy to talk to. He was also, and this is relevant context, genuinely attractive in the straightforward way of someone who doesn\u2019t appear to be working at it.<\/p>\n

I mentioned the situation to him at the coffee station on a Tuesday, because I needed to tell someone and he was there and I trusted him not to make it weird.<\/p>\n

He raised his eyebrows.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour husband suggested this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn your anniversary.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn a restaurant.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head slowly, then looked at me with an expression that was partly amused and partly something else.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d he said, \u201chis loss. I\u2019d be happy to take advantage of his extremely questionable decision, if you\u2019re open to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed. He smiled. We made plans for coffee.<\/p>\n

The coffee became dinner.<\/p>\n

I spent more time getting ready than I had in years, which itself was a data point worth examining. I put on a dress I had bought impulsively six months ago and worn nowhere. I did my makeup with care. I felt, in the process of all this, the specific and slightly surprising sensation of someone remembering something about themselves they had put away.<\/p>\n

Just before Shawn arrived, I sent Dave a text.<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t come home tonight. My date might go to the next level.<\/em><\/p>\n

I set my phone on the counter and heard it buzz with his response, which I did not read immediately because Shawn was at the door.<\/p>\n

\n

He was punctual, which I liked. He brought wine, which I also liked. He sat at my kitchen table with the easy comfort of someone who is genuinely happy to be where he is, and we talked through dinner and into dessert about work and families and the particular challenges of building a career while also being a person with a life outside of the career.<\/p>\n

He asked questions and listened to the answers.<\/p>\n

He laughed at the right places.<\/p>\n

He said, at one point, that I seemed like someone who had been managing a lot by herself for a while, and I said yes, and he nodded and said that was something he could see and that it seemed exhausting, and I said it was, and something about being accurately seen by someone who had no particular investment in not seeing me clearly made me feel a thing I had not felt in a long time.<\/p>\n

I was in the middle of telling him about a campaign I was particularly proud of when the front door opened.<\/p>\n

Dave\u2019s voice preceded him into the living room.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty-five cats, Felicity. Twenty-five. She had photos of all of them individually labeled, and she expected me to remember their names\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He stopped.<\/p>\n

He took in the table. The wine. Shawn and me in mid-conversation, mid-laugh, the easy comfortable picture of two people who are enjoying each other\u2019s company.<\/p>\n

His face went through several things in rapid succession.<\/p>\n

\u201cAm I interrupting something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got my text,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

He reached into his pocket and looked at his phone.<\/p>\n

I watched his face while he read it.<\/p>\n

\u201cCould you maybe give us a few more hours?\u201d I asked. \u201cWe were just getting to the good part.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dave\u2019s jaw did something I had never seen it do before, which was drop without any of the usual preamble.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not serious.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou wanted this,\u201d I said. \u201cThese were your terms.\u201d<\/p>\n

His face went through approximately eight more expressions in about four seconds.<\/p>\n

Then: \u201cWe need to talk. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at Shawn.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry about this,\u201d I said. \u201cRain check?\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled with the settled grace of someone who is not going to make a tense situation worse.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d he said. He stood, shook my hand, and paused. \u201cFor what it\u2019s worth,\u201d he said, quietly enough that Dave probably didn\u2019t hear, \u201cyou\u2019re someone worth making time for.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he was gone.<\/p>\n

Dave and I stood in the kitchen.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cWhere did you find him?\u201d Dave said. \u201cA modeling agency?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a colleague. We\u2019ve worked in the same building for three years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThree years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThree years.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dave sat down heavily at the kitchen table, the same table where Shawn and I had just been having dinner, and looked at the remnants of the evening with an expression I had not seen on him in a long time.<\/p>\n

Genuine distress.<\/p>\n

Not the performance of distress. Not the slightly-put-out look he sometimes produced when something hadn\u2019t gone the way he planned. Real, unmanaged, human distress.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did this feel?\u201d he asked. \u201cWhen I said what I said at the restaurant.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat down across from him.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike you looked at me and saw someone who had become inconvenient.\u201d<\/p>\n

He flinched.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike you had spent ten years with me and arrived at the conclusion that the most efficient solution to our problems was to outsource the parts of the marriage that required your actual attention.\u201d I paused. \u201cLike when you said real women, you meant women who were still interesting to you, and you had stopped finding me interesting, and you hadn\u2019t thought to mention this before proposing a solution.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was very quiet.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was an idiot,\u201d he said finally.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew things were off between us. I knew you were tired and I wasn\u2019t doing enough, and instead of trying to fix that I decided to just.\u201d He stopped. \u201cFind a workaround.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s accurate.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought if the pressure was less you\u2019d be happier. I thought it was a practical solution.\u201d He looked at his hands. \u201cI didn\u2019t think about what I was telling you when I suggested it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat were you telling me?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked up.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat I didn\u2019t want to do the work. That it was easier to look elsewhere than to look at what I\u2019d stopped giving you.\u201d He rubbed his face. \u201cAnd then I came home and you had someone here who was looking at you the way I should have been looking at you for the past couple of years, and I felt.\u201d He stopped again.<\/p>\n

\u201cJealous,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cSick,\u201d he said. \u201cI felt sick.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him across the table.<\/p>\n

This man had been my person for a decade. I had married him knowing his particular set of obliviousnesses and enthusiasms and his tendency to arrive at solutions without fully examining the problems. I had chosen him. He had chosen me. We had built something together that was real and complicated and worth something.<\/p>\n

He had also, ten days ago, sat across from me at a restaurant and told me I was a tired woman who would benefit from being freed from his attentions.<\/p>\n

Both of those things were true at the same time.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want an open relationship,\u201d I said. \u201cI never did. I agreed to your terms because I wanted you to understand what you were actually suggesting.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you? Because what I need isn\u2019t for you to feel jealous when you see me with someone else. Jealousy is easy. What I need is for you to actually look at what\u2019s been happening in this marriage and figure out what you\u2019re going to do about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been carrying most of what holds this family together for years. Not because you\u2019re cruel. Because it was easier for both of us to let me do it and not examine why. And somewhere in the process of that, you stopped seeing me as a person who had needs that weren\u2019t related to the children\u2019s school schedules and the household logistics.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFelicity.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m telling you what happened. I need you to hear it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hear it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want a workaround,\u201d I said. \u201cI want a partner. I want the person I married to show up for our actual life instead of outsourcing the parts that require him to be present.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was quiet for a long moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know when I stopped,\u201d he said. \u201cShowing up. I didn\u2019t notice it happening. And I think that\u2019s the problem. I let myself not notice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to fix it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWanting to isn\u2019t the same as doing it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. I know that.\u201d He reached across the table. \u201cWill you give me the chance to do it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at his hand on the table.<\/p>\n

I thought about ten years. About the coffee he spilled on my dress on our first date and the way he looked at me when he tried to clean it up, mortified and earnest and so clearly hoping I would stay. About the night our first daughter was born and how he held her like something both precious and overwhelming, and looked at me over her head with an expression I had never seen from him before or since. About the small accumulated evidence of a life shared: inside jokes and shared references and the specific shorthand of people who know each other well enough to communicate in partial sentences.<\/p>\n

About the restaurant, and the candles, and the phrase real women landing in the middle of a table where I had expected something entirely different.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to see a counselor,\u201d I said. \u201cBoth of us, together. Not as a last resort. As the first actual step.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I want you to stop treating the household as something that runs itself and start looking at what actually keeps it running.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I need you to understand that what you did wasn\u2019t just a bad idea. It was a communication from you about how you saw me, and that communication is going to take longer to address than one conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

I believed him, mostly.<\/p>\n

Not completely. You don\u2019t arrive at complete belief in a single kitchen conversation at eleven o\u2019clock at night after ten days that had included an open relationship proposal and a dinner that ended with your husband walking in on your date. But mostly.<\/p>\n

We sat there for a while. The house was quiet the way it only got when the kids were at his mother\u2019s, a different quality of silence from normal, the silence of the house itself rather than the silence between two people ignoring each other.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you remember the drive home from the hospital?\u201d I asked. \u201cAfter Elena was born.\u201d<\/p>\n

He almost smiled. \u201cYou kept making me drive five miles under the speed limit because she was in the car.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was three days old and you were doing forty in a residential zone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was doing thirty-eight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were doing forty and you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed, actually laughed, the sound coming out of him like something he\u2019d been holding.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou cried when we pulled into the driveway,\u201d he said. \u201cI always thought it was because you were relieved to be home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was relieved,\u201d I said. \u201cBut I was also just.\u201d I paused. \u201cThe whole thing had happened so fast. She existed, and then we were taking her home, and I thought: this is my life now. This is what I\u2019m building. And I was so glad it was with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen did I stop making you glad?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t stop. You just started being someone I had to manage instead of someone I could lean on. There\u2019s a difference.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded slowly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to be someone you can lean on,\u201d he said. \u201cI know that\u2019s not a promise that fixes anything tonight. But I want you to know it\u2019s what I want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen show me,\u201d I said. \u201cNot tonight. Over time. In the regular ordinary days, which is when it actually counts.\u201d<\/p>\n

He agreed.<\/p>\n

We went to bed that night without the conversation being resolved, because conversations like that one don\u2019t resolve. They open something that then has to be addressed across many days in many ordinary moments. I knew that. I think he was beginning to know it.<\/p>\n

\n

The counselor\u2019s name was Dr. Patricia Osei, and she had an office with good natural light and the particular quality of calm that certain professionals develop from spending years in rooms with people in difficult circumstances.<\/p>\n

The first session, she asked us each to describe the marriage as we experienced it.<\/p>\n

Dave went first.<\/p>\n

He described a marriage that had become logistical. Two people running a household and a family and separate careers, efficient and organized and deeply unpracticed at actually talking to each other about anything that wasn\u2019t on a shared calendar.<\/p>\n

I described the same marriage from the inside.<\/p>\n

Dr. Osei listened to both of us without interrupting. Then she said, \u201cIt sounds like you\u2019ve built something very functional and haven\u2019t been maintaining the connection underneath it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dave looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s accurate,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat would maintaining it look like?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

We didn\u2019t know immediately. We had to figure it out, which turned out to be part of the point.<\/p>\n

\n

The weeks that followed were not a montage.<\/p>\n

There was no transformation scene, no moment where everything clicked into place and the marriage emerged from its crisis suddenly and obviously repaired. Dave made efforts that were genuine and sometimes clumsy. He started coming home from work before the kids\u2019 bedtime, which required rearranging things he had previously treated as immovable. He asked, one evening, what I needed that I wasn\u2019t getting, and then sat with the answer in a way that looked uncomfortable but didn\u2019t become defensive.<\/p>\n

I made efforts too.<\/p>\n

I told him about the things I had been carrying silently instead of continuing to carry them silently. I stopped assuming his unawareness was indifference. It wasn\u2019t always. Sometimes it was simply unawareness, and unawareness can be addressed in ways that indifference cannot.<\/p>\n

I saw Shawn at work on the following Monday.<\/p>\n

We had coffee, the same as usual.<\/p>\n

He asked how things were going.<\/p>\n

\u201cComplicated,\u201d I said. \u201cBut possibly better than they were.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded with the equanimity of a man who has understood from the beginning where this situation was most likely to land.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds worth pursuing,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think so.\u201d<\/p>\n

We talked about work for the rest of the break. We have continued to be friendly colleagues in the easy, uncomplicated way we always were. Nothing about that evening changed what we were to each other. If anything, it clarified it.<\/p>\n

What it also clarified was something about me.<\/p>\n

The process of getting ready for that dinner, of feeling interesting and visible and like someone whose company was worth seeking out, was not manufactured by Shawn\u2019s attention. It was something I had let go dormant. Something that had been mine and had gotten buried under years of being useful to everyone in every direction until I had become more of a function than a person in my own life.<\/p>\n

The recovery of that was not Dave\u2019s project.<\/p>\n

It was mine.<\/p>\n

I started taking a Tuesday evening for myself. Every week, reliably, regardless of logistics. Sometimes I went to a class. Sometimes I met a friend I had been canceling on for two years. Sometimes I just drove somewhere and sat with my coffee and existed outside the context of my responsibilities.<\/p>\n

It sounds like a small thing. It wasn\u2019t a small thing.<\/p>\n

\n

On the night of our eleventh anniversary, Dave made the reservation.<\/p>\n

He asked me where I wanted to go and then made the reservation at the place I named and did not negotiate toward something more convenient or suggest that we could just as easily order in.<\/p>\n

It was not the expensive place from the year before. It was a restaurant I had always liked, with good food and no pretension, the kind of place where a real conversation was possible without performing having a real conversation.<\/p>\n

We sat across from each other.<\/p>\n

He looked, I thought, like someone who had been paying attention for a year and it had changed something in his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you want to know what I\u2019ve been thinking?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

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

\u201cLast year when you said that,\u201d I said, \u201cit didn\u2019t go particularly well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d He looked slightly sheepish. \u201cThis is different. I\u2019ve been thinking that this year has been harder than the previous nine put together, and also better. And I wanted to say that out loud.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHarder and better.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s possible to be both.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know you know.\u201d He reached across the table. \u201cI\u2019m still figuring out how to be the person you needed. I\u2019m not there yet. But I\u2019m actually trying to get there, which I wasn\u2019t doing before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know that too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you glad you gave it the chance?\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about the question honestly. About the year of counseling sessions and difficult conversations and the slow, unglamorous work of two people who had drifted apart trying to find their way back to each other across the specific and ordinary terrain of daily life.<\/p>\n

About the Tuesday evenings. About the things I had stopped swallowing silently. About the version of myself I had begun to recover, which turned out to be someone I wanted to continue being.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m glad.\u201d<\/p>\n

The bread basket arrived.<\/p>\n

We ate it before the main course, which we had always done and had always considered a minor act of rebellion against the way things were supposed to go.<\/p>\n

Some things about a marriage you keep exactly as they are.<\/p>\n

Some things you take apart entirely and rebuild from the ground up.<\/p>\n

The difficulty is knowing which is which, and having the honesty to look clearly enough to tell the difference.<\/p>\n

We were still learning.<\/p>\n

We ordered more wine.<\/p>\n

We talked until the restaurant was half-empty and the candles had burned down.<\/p>\n

We drove home under a sky that was doing something remarkable in the west, orange going to deep blue, the kind of sky that asks you to notice it, and we did.<\/p>\n

Neither of us said anything for a while.<\/p>\n

We were just two people in a car going home, which is an ordinary thing, and also, if you\u2019re paying attention, one of the better things.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Ten years of marriage, and Dave chose to announce that he wanted to blow it up at a restaurant where the bread basket alone cost fourteen dollars. I want to … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5825,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5824","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5824","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5824"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5824\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5826,"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5824\/revisions\/5826"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5825"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5824"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5824"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edmpackz.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5824"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}