🏠 "This Is My House" — A Birthday Reflection at 46
"46 isn’t just a birthday—it’s a breakthrough.
I’m not reflecting on where I’ve been.
I’m standing in who I’ve become.
This is my house. I built it. I own it. And I rise like I belong here."
Read the full birthday reflection → [link in bio]
#WatchMeRise #ThisIsMyHouse #HealingIsTheGlowUp
By Deryl Richardson | #WatchMeRise
Another year.
Another month.
Another day.
But today? I turn 46.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m not just reflecting on where I’ve been — I’m fully standing in who I’ve become.
This birthday feels different. Not because of the number, but because of the man behind it. I’ve carried so many versions of myself through life. The boy who survived, who showed up for everyone else, who gave more than he received. He was strong. He was resilient. But he was never supposed to stay forever.
This year, I’m letting him rest.
I'm stepping into the man that God created me to be — whole, powerful, and unapologetically rooted in my purpose. No more shrinking. No more proving. No more permission slips.
I dressed up this year, not for attention, but to honor the glow-up I fought for. To remind myself that the healing is the celebration. That the breakthrough is the style. That rising is the reward.
I’ve learned that true growth requires release — of roles, expectations, and old love that can’t reach you anymore. And to those who still don’t know how to love themselves… I see you. But I won’t bend for you.
“I will always love you, but I’ll never expect you to love me when you don’t love yourself.” — Beyoncé, My House
That line sits deep in my spirit. Because I’ve tried to carry others while carrying my own pain. I’ve waited for understanding that never came. But not anymore.
This is my house. I built it. I own it. And I walk through it like I deserve to be here.
So today, I’m not just putting on a show —
I am the show.
I have always been the show.
I will always be the show.
Happy Birthday to me!
🕯️ Journal Prompt for You:
What parts of yourself are ready to rest… so that your next chapter can rise?
✨ Ready to rise with me?
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Every product is designed to celebrate resilience, reinvention, and the bold choice to keep going.
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When Friendship Fails the Test
Some friendships aren’t meant to last forever. Here’s what I learned when silence spoke louder than words. #WatchMeRise
By Deryl Richardson
There’s something I’ve learned during recovery that hits harder than the pain itself: what people say when you’re in crisis—and what they actually do—are rarely the same.
So many people say, “You’re in my thoughts and prayers,” and honestly, that’s good enough. It’s kind. It’s real. It’s human.
But what’s not okay is when people say more than they mean.
“Let me know what you need.”
“I got you.”
“You know I’m here.”
But when I did let them know… nothing. No follow-through. No check-ins. No help. Just excuses or worse–silence.That’s not kindness. That’s character exposure.
Distance should never be an excuse for absence.
If you claim someone as a friend, and they tell you they need support—even if they’re in a different city—you show up in whatever way you can. That’s what friendship is. You don’t add disclaimers like, “If you were in my city, I’d help.” No, you wouldn’t. If convenience is your condition, that’s not friendship. That’s performance.
The truth is, some people were never really friends to begin with. They were just familiar faces in familiar places. But healing exposes that. Silence exposes that. Recovery makes it impossible to pretend.
This season has revealed something powerful:
I used to think friendship was about proximity. But now I know—it’s about presence. And presence isn’t about being in the room. It’s about being in someone’s life when it matters most.
I’m not bitter. I’m better.
Better because I see clearly now.
Better because I finally stopped excusing people who didn’t show up.
Better because I know what real support feels like—and what it doesn’t.
This is part of the rise.
This is how I reclaim my peace.
Not with anger, but with clarity.
So to those who disappeared: I release you.
And to those who stayed: thank you.
This story is mine now.
And I’m telling it—out loud.
#WatchMeRise