For all of my life, I called myself a dreamer. I had a colorful imagination and the desire to be a hundred different things: an artist, a singer, a teacher, a traveler, a writer, a mother, a doctor. I would pride myself on my carefree, wishful thinking as if it were some badge of honor.

I doodled in my notebooks during class, wrote stories and songs about boys I'd never kissed and emotions I'd never felt and adventures I'd never had. My teachers and parents would have to repeat themselves two or three times before I would hear them, for my head was just too far up in the clouds to pay attention.

There was a feeling of superiority that came along with the buoyancy of being a dreamer, I had a skip in my step while everyone around me simply walked. What better way was there to be as a child? At 11:11 I would shut my eyes as tightly as I could, clasp my hands together, and wish for something extraordinary to happen. But guess what? Nothing did.

There I was, 17, about to graduate high school and begin the next step in my education towards my boundless future, and being a dreamer had gotten me nowhere. In the movies girls like me would lay in a field of dandelions in pretty cotton dresses, their hair never knotted, and wherever they were they stared out the window, completely isolated from the world around them. They were the dreamers, and I yearned to be one of them more than anything. It seemed like the secret to happiness, to success, to a good life. So why was I about to go to college and feeling so completely unfulfilled? I did exactly what I was supposed to, I dreamt and dreamt the days away and had piles of summer dresses and read on the grass. Where was my happiness, my success, my good life?

I was on the phone with a friend the day I stopped being a dreamer. It was my first week of college, and everything had changed. Suddenly I was more motivated than I'd ever been, I piled on credits and extracurriculars and was constantly on the go. My new friends said I was "smart" and "busy" and "driven," words that no one had ever used to describe me before. Every choice I was making in this new chapter of my life suddenly made sense, every paper and conference and sleepless night was getting me another step closer to completing my degree and making a career for myself. My dreams stopped being dreams and I was overcome with something new: ambition.

I rapidly spouted my realizations to my friend, pacing back and forth on the grass next to my dorm building with the phone pressed against my ear. I told her how all of my life I'd been proud to be a dreamer, because I thought that was the most admirable thing to be, but I didn't want to be a dreamer anymore.

It was suddenly so clear: if all I do is dream about the possibilities of my life, what will I become? What is the point of being remembered for having these gargantuan dreams and ideas if I never do a thing to actually make any of them come true? I realized that I don't want to look back on my life and see all of the things I once wanted to see or be or do. I want to look back on my life and remember all of things I saw, the things I did, and how hard I worked to become the person I always wanted to be.

There's nothing wrong with being a dreamer. There is a dreamer inside of each of us that we need to let take the reigns for part of our lives, because they show us who we want to become and let us believe in things bigger than ourselves.

But when we're grown, we aren't going to take pride in the things we dreamed to do, we're going to revel in the fulfillment that comes with actually doing. I'm grateful that I let myself dream for so many years, because it led me to believe in success and wishes coming true and extraordinary things. But there comes a day where we can no longer be satisfied with just dreaming, we need to get out into the world and see what we can do.

Our dreams turn into our goals, and with time and work and a bit of luck, we hope to achieve them. The time comes when we need more than just the ideas of "what if" and "one day." Your dreams are the foundation of who you are, so you must never let them go. But you can never fall back on them either, because dreams follow two inescapable rules: anything can happen, and you will wake up.