The person suffering from imposter syndrome cannot internalize her successes. Though she may be well-liked and well-respected, she believes that she has managed to "fool" everyone in authority (her boss, the admissions committee, her parents, her peers) into thinking that she is smart and capable. She is certain that one day she will be "found out" as the imposter she "really" is.

The sad irony is that actually being successful only deepens the sufferer's conviction that she is a fraud. If she is praised for an achievement, she assumes it's only because she "got lucky," or that her superior is only flattering her "because he likes me," or that her work hides some terrible flaw that will make her eventual discovery and exposure all the more humiliating.

Paradoxically, then, success increases the sufferer's anxiety. To make up for her fear of being "discovered," she works harder and harder to maintain what she thinks of as the façade of competence. Of course, to everyone else, she looks successful and competent because she is. But the more the sufferer is praised, the wider the perceived gap grows between her abilities and her accomplishments, and the more neurotic and unhappy she becomes.

The term "imposter syndrome" gained currency in the academic world when career counsellors and campus psychologists discovered that graduate students (usually, but not always, women) were often crippled by doubts and self-loathing, even when they met supposedly objective criteria for success. The term has since become popular in the corporate world too.

Recognizing imposter syndrome is only a fraction of the battle. I cannot count the number of times a bright, capable graduate student said to another bright, capable graduate student, "You have imposter syndrome, but I actually suck."