Richard

Daily writing prompt

Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

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I’ve carried the name Richard my entire life, and like most people, I never really thought much about it when I was younger. It was just my name. Something my parents gave me, something teachers called out on the first day of school, something written at the top of every report card and job application. But the older I get, the more I realize that names have a funny way of growing into us—or maybe we grow into them.

The name Richard comes from old Germanic roots and literally means “brave ruler” or “strong leader.” Strong as in firm, steady, not flashy. Brave not in the movie-hero sense, but in the quieter way—standing your ground, taking responsibility, and doing what needs to be done even when it’s uncomfortable. When I first learned that, it stopped me for a moment. Not because I see myself as some grand ruler, but because that meaning tracks surprisingly well with how my life unfolded.

I’ve never been the loudest guy in the room. I don’t chase attention. I don’t need to dominate conversations or be seen as the smartest person sitting at the table. But when something needs to be built, fixed, figured out, or protected, I tend to step forward without thinking much about it. That’s been true in my career, in business, and in my family life. Leadership, for me, has never been about titles. It’s always been about ownership.

In my working years, especially in retail management and later in my own ventures, I found myself naturally gravitating toward responsibility. I liked being accountable. I liked knowing that if something succeeded or failed, the buck stopped with me. That sense of stewardship—of guarding something and making it better—is baked into the name Richard whether I realized it or not. A ruler, after all, isn’t just someone who commands. A good ruler protects what’s under his care and makes hard decisions others don’t want to make.

Even when I shifted into antiques, real estate, and writing, that same thread stayed intact. Antiques aren’t just objects to me; they’re history that deserves respect. Real estate isn’t just numbers on a spreadsheet; it’s homes, tenants, and long-term thinking. Writing—especially the family memoir and the book for my grandchildren—is another form of leadership. It’s me saying, “Here’s what I learned. Here’s what mattered. Take this with you.” That’s not ego. That’s legacy.

The “brave” part of Richard has shown up in less obvious ways too. Walking away from corporate life early took courage. Betting on myself took courage. Staying grounded in my values while the world shifts directions every five minutes takes courage. Even choosing a quieter, more deliberate life rather than chasing status or applause—that takes a kind of bravery people don’t often talk about.

I also find it interesting that Richard has so many nicknames. Rich. Richie. Rick. Each one softer or sharper depending on who’s using it and when. Over time, I’ve learned which versions of myself fit which seasons of life. “Rich” feels earned. It’s not about money; it’s about a life full of experiences, family, lessons, and stories worth passing on.

Looking back, I don’t think my name shaped me in some mystical way. But I do think it served as a kind of quiet alignment. Strong. Steady. Responsible. Protective. Those traits showed up again and again in my career choices, in how I lead, in how I love my family, and in how I think about the future. If a name is something we grow into, then Richard fits me just fine.

And if the meaning really is “brave ruler,” I’ll take that—not as a crown, but as a reminder. Lead well. Stand firm. Protect what matters. Leave things better than you found them.