✨ Finding My Way Back: Weight Loss, Spinal Surgery & Reclaiming My Health
After a spinal surgery and unexpected weight gain in my 40s, I found my way back through personalized GLP-1 treatment and intentional healing. This isn’t just a weight loss story — it’s a journey of reclaiming identity, power, and peace. #WatchMeRise
By Deryl Richardson | #WatchMeRise
When I turned 40, I didn’t expect my body to betray me. But that’s exactly how it felt.
I started gaining weight despite doing all the “right” things. My metabolism slowed. My energy dipped. Many parts of my body were not working the way they used to.
And then, the bombshell happened:
Progressive cervical myeloradiculopathy — a rare degenerative condition in my spine that was quietly compressing my spinal cord. It forced me into ACDF surgery and completely shut down my ability to stay active. I went from a gym routine to barely being able to stand. From full speed to full stop. I had been experiencing pain a year before that completely slowed my gym workouts down, but the ACDF surgery stopped me dead in my tracks.
The weight gain wasn't just about aesthetics. It became a symbol of everything I felt I was losing — control, strength, momentum, identity.
Part of my confidence is being proud of how I look in the mirror and how I present myself to the world. I didn’t want to lose that.
So I had a choice:
Let it consume me…
Or find my way back.
That’s when I found Hims.
Through their personalized GLP-1 treatment plan, I was able to start losing weight — even while recovering from surgery. Their team took my full health story into account, adjusting my dosage as my needs evolved and working with my body instead of against it.
This wasn’t a quick fix. This was a tailored path forward — one rooted in science, care, and consistency. Read the full Hims & Hers article here.
Today, I’m ten weeks post-op.
Stronger. Lighter. Clearer.
And while I’m still healing physically, I feel something even deeper: I’m home again — in my body, in my purpose, and in my power.
This journey hasn’t just been about pounds lost. It’s been about identity reclaimed.
And on August 12, 2025, the day I can say goodbye to my neck brace, I’ll be at least 30 pounds light and ready to tackle fitness again.
🎯 Thinking about your own health reset?
Explore the benefits of GLP-1 treatment through Hims. Personalized care. Real results. No shame.
💭 Want to journal through your own transformation?Grab the Watch Me Rise Healing & Reinvention Journal — built for every season of the climb.
#WatchMeRise #ACDFRecovery #GLP1Treatment #HealingIsTheGoal
Sometimes I Have to Water Myself
I spent years hoping someone would see I was parched. I whispered my needs, softened my voice, and made myself small—hoping someone would notice I was running on empty. That love would show up and pour into me.
There’s a quiet truth I’ve learned during recovery: sometimes, I am both the garden and the gardener.
I spent years hoping someone would see I was parched. I whispered my needs, softened my voice, and made myself small—hoping someone would notice I was running on empty. That love would show up and pour into me.
But healing doesn’t always arrive through someone else’s hands.
There are days I walk outside, neck brace on, heart heavy, body aching… and I water my plants. Slowly. Silently. Tenderly. And in that moment, I realize—I’m really watering myself.
I’m showing up for myself.
I’m choosing softness.
I’m making space for peace.
This is what rising looks like when no one is clapping.
It’s what healing sounds like when the world is loud, but you choose quiet anyway.
If you’re in a season of becoming, I hope you remember: the most beautiful things grow in silence.
Even you.
💭 Journal Prompt:
Where in your life have you been waiting for someone else to pour into you? How can you begin to water yourself today?
👉🏾 This reflection pairs with the Healing Through Reinvention journal prompt “Pouring from a Full Cup”—available now inside the Watch Me Rise Journal.
Take your time.
Breathe through it.
And if you’re ready, write your way through it.
What Real Support Looks Like–And What It Doesn’t
Not all support is real. Some of it’s performance. Some of it disappears when you need it most. In this personal reflection, I unpack what healing taught me about people, pain, and showing up. #WatchMeRise
This post started as an Instagram reflection — but it’s really a journal entry for anyone who’s ever felt abandoned during hard seasons.
In the wake of my surgery and healing journey, I’ve seen firsthand the difference between people who show up out of love and those who disappear out of convenience.
Support isn’t just about being present when it's easy.
It’s about being present when it's inconvenient.
It’s action — not empty "thoughts and prayers" with no intention behind them.
After surgery, I learned that some people were only “supportive” when the spotlight was on me. But when the silence set in, so did their absence.
Real support checks in without needing to be reminded.
It doesn’t just check the box — it checks on you.
I’ve learned that true support feels safe. It’s quiet, it’s consistent, and it doesn’t always need to be public.
It simply says: “I’m here. Even now.”
I’m not writing this out of bitterness.
I’m writing it because someone out there needs the reminder:
You weren’t crazy for feeling let down.
I felt it too.
But I also found new people — unexpected ones — who made me feel deeply seen.
Those are the ones I’m building with.
Those are the ones I’m healing with.
💬 “Support isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s quiet, consistent presence. That’s what saved me.”
This was just one chapter of my healing.
If it spoke to you, you’re not alone.