I’ve known since I was a girl that the ultimate goal for this thing we call life is to be happy like my parents. That much has remained the same. As I grew up, I wanted to be an actress, a comedian, a lawyer, an athletic trainer, a surgeon. But there was always one constant that I have counted on in my equation of life while all of the other variables continue to change and shift and derail my plans.

Love.

I was almost a junior in college when I moved to Florida. I had decided that I was going to major in biology, go to med school, become an otolaryngologist (head and neck surgeon) and save lives for a living.

But then I met a guy.

Not even anyone special, in fact, he was the king of douchebaggery but you know, at the time, we were totally getting married someday. I found more value in hanging out with him than I did trying to figure out chemistry.

When my grades started slipping, I convinced myself that I wasn’t cut out to be a surgeon. That by the time I got through undergrad, med school, residency and fellowships, I’d be, like ::gasp:: 36. There was no way I could have a family if I was just getting started with my own life at 36. So the story goes, I find a deal-breaker of a flaw, we break up, never speak again, and I’m left wondering what the hell I’m going to do with my life. I sat down with myself, had a quick chat, made a killer pros and cons list of my personality traits, and settled on PR.

Fast forward three years, and here I am.

But where am I, exactly? I’m smack dab in the middle of my twenties, embarking on an incredible journey that is my career and I can support myself. These are all of the requirements that I had laid out when I was planning out the rest of my education three years ago. Graduate. Get job. Make money. Support myself. THEN I’m ready for love.

THEN I’m totally open and willing and available for someone to love me the way that I will have grown to love myself.

I’m here.

Photo Credit: Getty Images – Mayra Rodriguez

In my life – especially as of late – a lot of reallyeffingawesome things have been happening in rapid succession. Finish school. Move to Chicago. Get an internship. Run home to graduate. Get hired out of the internship. Land a speaking gig at a major conference. Make friends. Work hard. Pay bills. I’ve been inundated with deadlines, milestones, and other big moments that scream “OH MY GOD YOU’RE ONE STEP CLOSER!” One step closer to ultimate happiness, one step closer to the mothership of all goals, LOVE. Love like the kind my parents share.

In recent months, things have started to shift for me romantically. It’s been a whirlwind lately. I’m feeling emotions and having conversations and making connections that I’m not even sure have actually existed in my version of reality. I’m experiencing these things that feel so familiar, not because I’ve actually felt them before, but because this is what I could have been dreaming up in my head the whole time.

Conversations that inspired thoughts that were so emotionally charged that the posts that actually got published were disguised in metaphors and there are some that never made it to screen, but are actually written down in a journal. Yeah, like with a pen. Seriously.

In the past, I’ve been in relationships that were started on a basis of lies (not on my end), or on no foundation whatsoever. I think Nicole describes it perfectly in her post about the hookup culture. It’s a fuzzy line when you’re in relationships like that. But when someone blindsided me with everything I’ve always hoped for, it was like “YES! A MILLION TIMES YES! THIS IS WHY BEING “PICKY” IS WORTH IT!” and the line is suddenly crystal clear.

There is respect. Open lines of communication. There is this insane balance of being totally batshit crazy about each other but also incredibly sensible in realizing the fact that this is new and I don’t want to jump the gun. But then I think that jumping the gun wouldn’t be so bad, and what the hell is jumping the gun anyway? I realize that every relationship before this one, when I’ve been opening up and terrified of the words that are coming out of my mouth, wasn’t really a relationship. I see now that it never would have worked out because I couldn’t be myself, and I had to apologize for it when I was.

We’re not dumping stories on each other about exes because really, what good does that do? What good does it do to spill about how terrible our last relationships were? Of course they were terrible! That’s why we’re sitting here today! That’s why we have this shot at love with each other, because the other ones were preparing us for this very moment.

I feel like we’re redefining “epic” one day at a time.

Will this be the big fat wonderful romance that I’ve always hoped for? Will this guy be the one that can love my crazy and will catch me when I fall? Will he be the one that will love me every step of the way, support me as I try to take on the world, and share the rest of my life, both successes and failures, with me? More importantly – will he let me love him the way I’ve always known I can love someone?

I sure as shit hope so.

All You Need Blogger: Sydney Owen

Sydney is exploring life as a 20-something, making her way through the transition from college to corporate, life in the big city, and the journey to find love along the way. Her blog Sydney: Unfiltered is a take on life as it is: unpredictable, frightening and wildly exciting.  You can follow her on Twitter @sydneyowen.

Song: Rascal Flatts – The Day Before You