Let’s talk about dreams.

Not the kind we have when we’re sleeping that, when recounting to our friends and family the next day, makes them tune us out.

No, let’s talk about the dreams that keep us alive by taking us somewhere far away from where we really are. The ones that permeate our head when we’re trying not to fall asleep during Sociology 101 in university. The dreams that fill our hearts and help us aspire to something bigger.

The focus of my dreams has varied from the whimsical to the not so out of reach. I’ve dreamed about what it would be like to have a pet lion and a pet eagle at the same time. I’ve also dreamed about what would happen if my current crush and I were the only two people to inhabit the earth. (Answer: We’d have a lot of sex everywhere.)

For the sake of this blog, I’m going to focus on the one dream that I’ve had since I was a teenager: For as long as I could write relatively well, I have dreamed of being a columnist. And recently, that dream came true.

This isn’t a unique dream for a writer. Everyone I know who puts words on page for a living wants to be a columnist. It’s the most prime gig you can get. On a regularly basis, an allotted spot on a blank page is devoted to YOU and YOUR voice. A column is basically the kingdom for your ego to reside.

Last fall, a friend who writes a column for the Metro asked if I’d like to take over while she took a few months off. Holy shit! Talk about a dream coming true! I eagerly agreed and got in touch with the editor. They asked me to do a mock entry, which the editor liked and I was told to file my first story within a week, along with a headshot.

Oh! A photo! My (admittedly pretty attractive) face would be accompanying my words in a publication that gets 500,000 eyeballs a day. What a thrill.

The week leading up to my first column entry was a busy one. I’d just returned from New York and had a pile of deadlines that needed taking care of. By the time I was to file my first entry, I’d completely forgotten about the photo I was suppose to submit alongside it, which I’d planned on getting a professional photographer friend to take. So, in a stressed and somewhat depressed state, I submitted this one, taken on my Mac’s photo booth:

So, my eyebrows could benefit from a plunk and my hair could use a comb, though I kind of like the ruffled, day-the-beach-look. But messy hair aside, I thought the photo was neutral enough to pass as my first column photo. I submitted it without much more thought. Here’s how it looked in the paper:

When I started posting links to my column on Facebook, I got a lot of great feedback. Then, people started commenting on the photo that accompanied my words.

“You’re a lot more photogenic than that photo.”

“That photo doesn’t do your pretty face justice”

“Do you want me to retake that photo for you? Really, I insist.”

I was starting to realize that my ego’s kingdom was slowly being destroyed by what I had failed to see as an undoubtedly ugly photo of myself.

The comments continued.

“You look like a crackhead! A pretty one though.”

“The only thing missing is a big hairy wart.”

OK! I GET IT! My column photo is ugly.

My dream of having my voice heard by probably the largest amount of people it’s ever been able to reach was largely overshadowed by the fact that I look like a varmint that lives in a humid sewer. When I used to dream about having a column, this wasn’t how it played out in my head.

My friend is now back from her extended vacation and I’m handing back the column to her, so grateful for the experience and exposure. I’ll miss walking on the subway, looking around and seeing at least a dozen strangers of different races, ages and backgrounds, reading a paper that I’ve contributed to.

Too bad the majority of them probably looked at my picture and thought, “Dude, that girl’s a dog.”

Here’s to dreams coming true.

Hi reader. I want to hear all about your dreams coming true. Email me as usual at write@eliannalev.com, or leave a message below or on Facebook or wherever you like to catch me. Oh, and while we’re at it, please click here  to LIKE the shit out of I’m a Good Story on Facebook.