I stared into the swirling depths of my latte, searching for answers in the coffee-coloured whirlpool. Across from me, Emma\u2019s polished exterior seemed to crack, her usually confident posture slumping as she fiddled with her meticulously styled hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you ever feel like we\u2019re just… stuck?\u201d I asked, breaking the heavy silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma\u2019s green eyes, magnified by her glasses, met mine. \u201cConstantly,\u201d she said, her voice wavering. \u201cI keep pushing myself at work, thinking if I just land that next big client or get that promotion, I\u2019ll finally feel… enough.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded, understanding all too well. \u201cIt\u2019s like we\u2019re climbing a never-ending ladder, isn\u2019t it? Always reaching for the next rung, but never quite getting to the top.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cExactly,\u201d Emma replied, her carefully chosen words faltering. \u201cAnd in my marriage… I just don\u2019t know if Andrew and I can ever truly connect. Sometimes I wonder if I even know how to anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh god,\u201d she whispered, her voice barely audible over the cafe\u2019s background chatter. \u201cWhat do you think he wants?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My mind raced with possibilities, each more anxiety-inducing than the last. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I said, trying to keep my voice steady. \u201cBut whatever it is, we\u2019ll face it together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you think we should go?\u201d she asked, her usual business jargon replaced by raw vulnerability.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I took a deep breath, weighing our options. The thought of confronting Andrew, with his perpetual scowl and biting sarcasm, made my stomach churn. But avoiding it wouldn\u2019t solve anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI think we have to,\u201d I said finally. \u201cRunning away won\u2019t change anything. Maybe… maybe this is our chance to actually talk things through.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting a mix of fear and determination. \u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d she said, straightening her tailored suit as if armouring herself for battle. \u201cWe can\u2019t keep dancing around these issues forever.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As we stood to leave, I felt a strange cocktail of emotions swirling inside me\u2014anxiety, anticipation, and a tiny flicker of hope. Whatever Andrew had to say, whatever challenges lay ahead, at least we weren\u2019t facing them alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cReady?\u201d I asked, offering Emma a small smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She squared her shoulders, a hint of her professional confidence returning. \u201cAs I\u2019ll ever be,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Together, we stepped out of the cafe and into the uncertain future, two people-pleasers finally ready to confront the truth \u2013 no matter how uncomfortable it might be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I glanced at my watch. Thirty minutes until Andrew\u2019s arrival. The weight of anticipation pressed on my chest, making it hard to breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI think I need some air,\u201d I said to Emma. \u201cClear my head a bit before…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She nodded, understanding etched on her face. \u201cOf course. I\u2019ll meet you there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I set off down the bustling city street, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The concrete beneath my feet felt oddly comforting, each step grounding me in the present. As I wandered past shop windows and busy cafes, I couldn\u2019t shake the feeling that I was walking into a minefield.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not your marriage,\u201d I muttered to myself, dodging a cyclist. \u201cStay out of it, mate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The more I thought about it, the more certain I became. This was Emma and Andrew\u2019s battle to fight. I\u2019d be there for Emma, of course, but getting caught in the crossfire of their crumbling relationship? That was a recipe for disaster.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I turned down a quieter side street, the city\u2019s constant hum fading slightly. \u201cYou\u2019re just here for moral support,\u201d I reminded myself. \u201cNothing more.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I circled back towards the cafe, I spotted Emma through the window. She sat ramrod straight, her fingers drumming nervously on the table. Across from her, Andrew\u2019s scowl was visible even from the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. \u201cHere we go,\u201d I said, pushing open the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The tension in the air was palpable as I approached their table. Emma\u2019s eyes darted to me, a mix of relief and anxiety in her gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlex,\u201d Andrew said curtly, his tone as frosty as ever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAndrew,\u201d I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral. \u201cI\u2019ll just… grab a coffee and leave you two to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I retreated to the counter, I couldn\u2019t help but feel like I was abandoning Emma to face the firing squad alone. But this was their moment, their chance to confront the issues that had been festering for far too long.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I just hoped they\u2019d both make it out in one piece.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wandered away from the cafe, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The city streets blurred around me as I walked, barely noticing the bustling crowds or honking horns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before I knew it, I found myself at the edge of a small park. A serene lake stretched out before me, its surface like glass in the late afternoon light. A weathered park bench beckoned, and I sank onto it gratefully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStrewth,\u201d I muttered, running a hand through my hair. \u201cWhat a bloody mess.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The weight of everything\u2014my own struggles, Emma\u2019s crumbling marriage, the constant dance of vulnerability and fear\u00b1\u2014 pressed down on me like a physical force. I gazed out at the lake, wishing I could be as still and peaceful as its placid surface.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Meanwhile, back at the cafe, Emma and Andrew\u2019s conversation had taken a sharp turn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re never home, Emma!\u201d Andrew\u2019s voice rose, his face flushed with anger. \u201cHow can we work on our marriage when you\u2019re always at the office?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma\u2019s green eyes flashed behind her glasses. \u201cThat\u2019s rich, coming from you,\u201d she said, her tone icy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The argument escalated, their voices rising above the cafe\u2019s ambient noise. Other patrons began to stare, but Emma and Andrew were too caught up in their emotions to care.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMaybe if you paid attention to something other than your bloody career-\u201d Andrew started.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, don\u2019t you dare blame this on me!\u201d Emma\u2019s voice cracked. \u201cI\u2019ve been trying, Andrew. But you checked out of this marriage long ago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As their heated words flew back and forth, the true extent of their marital issues began to surface, raw and painful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Back at the lake, I sighed heavily. \u201cWhat am I even doing here?\u201d I wondered aloud. \u201cAm I helping Emma, or just making everything more complicated?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The lake offered no answers, just the gentle lapping of water against the shore. I closed my eyes, trying to find some clarity amidst the chaos of my thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My fingers trembled slightly as I pulled out my phone, tapping the screen to open the eBook we\u2019d been studying. The chapters on overcoming people-pleasing habits glowed back at me, a digital lighthouse in my sea of uncertainty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRight,\u201d I muttered, scrolling through the familiar text. \u201cStep one: Recognise your patterns.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I let out a mirthless chuckle. Recognise them? Mate, I was the bloody poster child for people-pleasing. Always saying yes, never rocking the boat, terrified of rejection. The words on the screen swam before my eyes as I desperately searched for some magical solution.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStep two: Set healthy boundaries,\u201d I read aloud, my voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. \u201cEasier said than done, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I delved deeper into the chapter, a notification popped up. A message from Emma:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can\u2019t do this anymore. I\u2019ve left Andrew at the cafe. Need space.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My heart sank. I could picture Emma, her carefully styled auburn hair dishevelled, tears streaking her makeup as she fled the cafe. Her green eyes, usually so determined, would be clouded with pain and confusion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBloody hell,\u201d I whispered, staring at the message. Should I respond? Give her the space she asked for? My people-pleasing instincts warred with the advice from the book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I took a deep breath, trying to centre myself. \u201cWhat do you really want, Alex?\u201d I asked myself, the question hanging in the air over the serene lake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I sat there, grappling with my inner turmoil, a sudden surge of determination washed over me. It was time to stop hiding behind my carefully constructed facade. I needed to confront my fears head-on, starting with Jake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My fingers hovered over the screen, trembling slightly as I typed out a message:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJake, mate. Can we catch up? Need to chat about some heavy stuff. Vulnerability and all that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hit send before I could second-guess myself, my heart racing. The response came almost immediately:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSure thing, buddy. Everything okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at his reply, a mix of relief and anxiety churning in my gut. Jake\u2019s usual charm and humour were evident even in his text, but I knew there was more beneath the surface. We were both masters of deflection, using our outgoing personalities to keep others at arm\u2019s length.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot really,\u201d I typed back, forcing myself to be honest. \u201cBut I\u2019m working on it. Usual spot in an hour?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I waited for his response, my mind drifted to Emma. I pictured her wandering the streets, her polished exterior crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Emma, always so put together, now adrift in a sea of uncertainty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake\u2019s reply buzzed through: \u201cYou got it. See you then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pocketed my phone, exhaling slowly. This was it. No turning back now. I stood up from the bench, my legs slightly wobbly, and began the walk back towards the city centre. With each step, I repeated a mantra from the self-help book:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cVulnerability is strength. Authenticity is freedom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It felt corny as hell, but I clung to those words like a lifeline. As I rounded a corner, I caught sight of a familiar figure across the street. Emma, her shoulders slumped, was entering an art gallery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood on ya, Em,\u201d I murmured, resisting the urge to call out to her. We both needed this time to face our demons alone before we could truly support each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pressed on, steeling myself for the conversation ahead with Jake. It was time to tear down the walls we\u2019d both built so carefully. The thought terrified me, but beneath the fear, a tiny spark of hope flickered to life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The bar\u2019s familiar neon sign flickered into view, a beacon of both comfort and trepidation. I pushed open the heavy wooden door, the scent of stale beer and peanuts washing over me. Jake was already there, perched on our usual stool, his easy smile not quite reaching his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cG\u2019day, mate,\u201d he said, raising his beer in greeting. \u201cWhat\u2019s got you looking so serious?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I slid onto the stool beside him, my heart hammering. \u201cJake, I reckon we need to have a proper yarn.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake\u2019s smile faltered for a moment before he recovered, his charm kicking in like a reflex. \u201cAlright, hit me. What\u2019s on your mind?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I took a deep breath, feeling like I was about to jump off a cliff. \u201cI\u2019m tired of pretending, mate. This whole act we put on, it\u2019s doing my head in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake\u2019s eyebrows shot up. \u201cWhat act?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe one where we\u2019re always fine, always up for a laugh. Where we never talk about anything real.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake shifted uncomfortably, his fingers picking at the label on his bottle. \u201cCome on, Alex. That\u2019s just how blokes are, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I shook my head. \u201cNah, it\u2019s not. And I reckon it\u2019s killing us both.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Meanwhile, across town, Emma found herself standing before a massive canvas. Swirls of deep blue and vibrant orange danced across the surface, intertwining in a chaotic yet beautiful embrace. The painting seemed to pulse with raw emotion, drawing her in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cVulnerability,\u201d she whispered, reading the title plaque. Her eyes welled up as she stared at the artwork, seeing her own struggles reflected in every brushstroke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Back at the bar, Jake\u2019s jovial mask cracked. \u201cWhat are you on about, mate?\u201d he said, his voice strained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I leaned in, lowering my voice. \u201cI\u2019m scared, Jake. Scared of being rejected, of not being good enough. And I reckon you feel the same way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake\u2019s eyes widened, then darted around the room. \u201cKeep your voice down, will ya?\u201d he hissed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSee? That\u2019s what I\u2019m talking about,\u201d I said. \u201cWe can\u2019t even admit we\u2019re human without feeling like we\u2019re gonna cop it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake\u2019s shoulders sagged. \u201cAlright, fine. Maybe you\u2019ve got a point. But what do you want me to say?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust be honest, mate. Tell me what\u2019s really going on in that head of yours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As Jake wrestled with his words, Emma stood transfixed before the painting. The colours seemed to shift and swirl, mirroring the turmoil in her heart. She thought of Andrew, of their marriage built on false pretences and unmet expectations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can\u2019t keep living like this,\u201d she murmured, her hands trembling at her sides. The realisation hit her like a tonne of bricks\u2014she\u2019d been hiding her true self for so long, she barely recognised the woman staring back at her in the gallery\u2019s reflection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Back at the bar, Jake finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. \u201cI\u2019m lonely, Alex. Bloody lonely. Even with Maria, I feel like I\u2019m just… empty inside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded, feeling a weight lift off my chest. \u201cMe too, mate. Me too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As we clinked our glasses together, a silent understanding passed between Jake and me. The journey ahead wouldn\u2019t be easy, but at least we weren\u2019t going it alone anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCheers to being a couple of emotional wallabies,\u201d I said with a wry grin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. \u201cStrewth, we\u2019re a right pair, aren\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We downed our drinks and stood up, the weight of our conversation settling around us like a comfortable blanket. As we headed towards the exit, Jake clapped me on the shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThanks, mate. For… you know,\u201d he said, his usual charm replaced by genuine gratitude.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnytime,\u201d I replied, feeling a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with the beer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Meanwhile, Emma strode out of the art gallery, her heels clicking purposefully on the pavement. The vibrant colours of the artwork still danced behind her eyelids, a stark contrast to the grey clouds gathering overhead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTime to face the music,\u201d she muttered, fishing her phone out of her handbag. Her fingers hovered over Andrew\u2019s name for a moment before she pressed \u2018call\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAndrew? We need to talk,\u201d she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. \u201cCan you meet me at home in an hour?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As she ended the call, Emma took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The conversation ahead would be difficult, but she knew it was necessary. Like lancing a boil, it would hurt, but it was the only way to start healing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo more hiding,\u201d she whispered to herself as she hailed a taxi. \u201cIt\u2019s time to be the real Emma Johnson.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I trudged home, my footsteps echoing in the quiet streets. The conversation with Jake had left me feeling lighter, yet a familiar weight of uncertainty still clung to my shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOne step at a time,\u201d I muttered to myself, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The neon signs of closed shops flickered around me, their glow a reminder of the vibrant life I was trying to embrace. As I rounded the corner to my street, I caught sight of my reflection in a darkened shopfront. The bloke staring back at me looked different somehow\u2014a glimmer of hope in his eyes that hadn\u2019t been there before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRight, mate,\u201d I said to my reflection. \u201cTime to face those fears head-on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Meanwhile, across town, Emma sat rigidly on the edge of the sofa, her fingers tracing the rim of an untouched cup of tea. The front door clicked open, and Andrew\u2019s heavy footsteps filled the silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou wanted to talk?\u201d he said, his voice gruff as he shrugged off his coat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma took a deep breath, her heart racing. \u201cYes, Andrew. We need to address the elephant in the room.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Andrew slumped into the armchair opposite her, his face a mask of resignation. \u201cGo on, then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOur marriage,\u201d Emma began, her voice wavering slightly. \u201cIt\u2019s not working, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Andrew\u2019s scowl deepened. \u201cBit of an understatement, that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma pressed on, her words tumbling out like water from a burst dam. \u201cWe\u2019ve been living separate lives for years now. I\u2019ve been so focused on my career, on being perfect, that I\u2019ve lost sight of who I really am. And you… you\u2019ve found comfort elsewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Andrew\u2019s eyes widened, a flicker of guilt crossing his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma nodded, a sad smile tugging at her lips. \u201cBut I can\u2019t keep pretending anymore. We both deserve better than this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over Emma\u2019s number. My conversation with Jake echoed in my mind, his words about facing fears and embracing vulnerability giving me the push I needed. With a deep breath, I pressed call.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlex?\u201d Emma\u2019s voice sounded thick, as if she\u2019d been crying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey, Em,\u201d I said, trying to keep my own voice steady. \u201cI… I was wondering if you\u2019d like to meet up. I reckon we both could use a friend right now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a pause, and I could almost see her biting her lip, considering. \u201cYeah, I\u2019d like that,\u201d she finally said. \u201cThe usual spot?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSounds perfect. See you in twenty.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As I walked to our favourite caf\u00e9, my mind raced with thoughts of Emma and our shared struggles. The bell above the door jingled as I entered, spotting Emma at our regular table, her auburn hair slightly dishevelled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cG\u2019day,\u201d I said, sliding into the seat across from her. \u201cHow are you holding up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma\u2019s green eyes, usually so confident, looked lost behind her glasses. \u201cI\u2019ve been better,\u201d she said with a weak smile. \u201cAndrew and I… we\u2019ve decided to separate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My heart clenched for her. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Em. That must\u2019ve been a tough conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She nodded, her fingers fidgeting with a napkin. \u201cIt was, but also… freeing, in a way. Like I can finally stop pretending everything\u2019s fine when it\u2019s not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I leaned forward, my own vulnerability bubbling to the surface. \u201cI get that. I had a pretty intense chat with Jake earlier. About our fears, you know? The stuff we\u2019ve been avoiding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma\u2019s eyebrows rose. \u201cReally? How\u2019d that go?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cScary as all get-out,\u201d I admitted with a chuckle. \u201cBut also… good? Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Hurts like hell, but then you can finally start healing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma nodded, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. \u201cI felt something similar at the art gallery I stumbled into after… well, after everything. There was this painting that just spoke to me, you know? All raw emotion and vulnerability.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I smiled, picturing Emma finding solace in art. \u201cSounds like we\u2019ve both had quite the day of revelations.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat we have,\u201d she said, her voice soft but steady. \u201cAlex, I… I\u2019m terrified of what comes next. But I also feel more like myself than I have in years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I reached across the table, taking her hand in mine. The gesture felt natural, comforting. \u201cI\u2019m scared too, Em. But we\u2019re in this together, yeah? No more hiding, no more people-pleasing. Just us, being real.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma\u2019s fingers tightened around mine, her professional facade crumbling to reveal the vulnerable woman beneath. \u201cPromise?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCross my heart,\u201d I said, drawing an X over my chest with my free hand. \u201cWe\u2019ll stumble, we\u2019ll probably fall flat on our faces a few times, but we\u2019ll pick each other up. That\u2019s what mates are for, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A genuine laugh escaped Emma\u2019s lips, the sound like music after so much heaviness. \u201cRight. God, what a pair we make.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As we sat there, hand in hand, I felt a surge of determination. The road ahead was uncertain, full of potential pitfalls and challenges. But looking at Emma, seeing the same mix of fear and hope in her eyes that I felt in my gut, I knew we\u2019d face it together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo,\u201d I said, giving her hand a squeeze, \u201cready to take on the world, one messy, authentic step at a time?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emma\u2019s smile was small but genuine. \u201cAs ready as I\u2019ll ever be,\u201d she said. \u201cLet\u2019s do this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And with that, we stood, still holding hands, and walked out of the caf\u00e9 into the bright Australian sunshine. The future was a mystery, but for the first time in ages, I felt excited to unravel it \u2013 messiness, vulnerability and all.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Chapter 8 examines the influence of body language on connections. It explains how non-verbal cues can enhance or hinder communication, offering strategies to use body language effectively in building relationships<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":8610,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[153,185],"tags":[],"ppma_author":[306],"class_list":["post-8616","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book","category-the-power-of-connection"],"yoast_head":"\n