Level Up

Today, I had a thought—maybe I’m on reserve.

And immediately, I had to check myself like, “V, what the hell do you mean by ‘ on reserve?”

Now, anyone who knows me knows that when a word hits my spirit like that, I run straight to the dictionary. Not because I don’t know what it means, but because I’ve learned to sit with words. To unpack them. To understand them in the full context of my thoughts, my emotions, and my season.

And since I was cozy in bed (not about to get up for a dictionary), I turned to my trusted sidekick—Google.

Here’s what I found:
Reserve – to refrain from using, to keep back, or to put to one side.
Another definition? A supply of a commodity not needed for immediate use, but available when required.

That got me thinking…
Wait—commodity?

So I looked that up too:
Commodity – a useful or valuable thing. Like time. Like water.

And that’s when it hit me—Oh snap.
I’ve been a commodity this whole time.
A valuable thing. Something useful. Something necessary. Something that is not for everyday use, but powerful in due time.

Do you know how valuable that makes me?

Sis—do you know how valuable you are?

I am so rare, so expensive, so nourishing, that my presence will be like water to the man who’s meant to receive me. (Insert a praise break—or a twerk break—whatever you can get back up from.)

My water isn’t just surface-level. It’s deep. It’s healing. It’s life-giving. Because women, we birth things. We multiply what we’re given. We pour. But here’s the thing: He has to be able to contain what I carry. Otherwise, my water won’t bless him—it’ll drown him.

I am on reserve.
I’ve been set aside, not forgotten. Timing is everything. And just because I’m not being used right now doesn’t mean I’ve lost my worth. It means I’m being protected until I’m required.

There are many women in this world, but none can bring what I bring. My personality, my wisdom, my gifting, my humor, my tenderness, my strength, my story. I am one of one.

Now I understand why relationships haven’t always come easily for me. Why I prefer solitude over shallow companionship. Why I’m okay being single instead of entertaining men who do nothing but take up space.

Because when you know your purpose, when you know what kind of power you possess, you stop giving it away like samples in a grocery store.

I’m not free game. I’m not for everyone.

I’m on reserve for someone specific.
And that man? He’ll have the key to unlock what’s been stored up inside of me. He’ll soften me, not because I need fixing, but because real connection makes safe spaces for vulnerability.

Without me, his next level may remain locked.
And without him, my love has no target.

He’s out there. And I’m in no rush. Our time will come.
Until then, I stay on reserve. Healing, growing, becoming. Shedding the baggage of past mistakes. Perfecting the parts of me that matter most.

Because he deserves the whole me. Not a half. Not what’s left after everyone else had a piece.

So I level up.
I wait in peace.
I prepare in faith.
I remain… on reserve.

-Velma