The term “Impostor Syndrome” has been around since the 70’s, but recently it has been popping up again in descriptions of certain behavioral norms prevalent in today’s generation, especially millennials. At first assessment, the phrase appears slightly absurd; its official definitions include the following: “a situation where someone feels like an impostor or fraud because they think they have duped the people around them; informally used to describe people who are unable to internalize their accomplishments”. I laughed out loud when I stumbled across the term in an article a few weeks ago—the notion that an individual can’t discard the feeling of being an impostor in his or her own life just seemed incredibly ridiculous. But after finishing the piece and floating the idea around in a few casual conversations with friends on campus, it occurred to me that the idea is not so far fetched after all—in fact, the more I thought about it, I realized that it aptly described certain nagging fears of my own that I’d never really questioned before.

The interesting thing about fraud syndrome is that it occurs in people who have no legitimate reason for their insecurity; they have accomplished something authentic—getting into the college of their dreams, acing an exam, nailing a presentation, or receiving an award, for example—with the concrete evidence to prove it, yet cannot shake the uncomfortable feeling that they have somehow gotten away with something, fooling those around them. In a fascinating—albeit slightly disturbing—manner, a vast amount of people (mostly women) are simply unable to integrate their accomplishments into their identity, because they don’t believe that they deserve the credit for their work. It’s one thing to feel sheepish when giving a presentation on a topic that you didn’t have time to research beforehand, thus giving the impression of credibility disingenuously and feeling the resulting anxiety of fraudulence. But when one cannot attribute his or her own hard work to the realization of a legitimate success—such as getting into a hard college, or receiving glowing praise on a final essay—there is a deeper issue at play.

Why do people feel this way? I was grappling with this question for some time after hearing so many accomplished, intelligent classmates admitting that they secretly worry that people will “discover” that they are not as smart as they seem, or that their work is somehow the product of luck and well honed “faking” skills. I found it upsetting, especially since I was easily able to relate to many of their confessions. Have you ever gotten an A on a paper and laughed to the person next to you? Instead of smiling and giving yourself an internal pat on the back for your well-deserved grade, do you ever wonder instead how you fooled your professor? How many times have you said out loud: “I honestly have no idea how I did so well” to a classmate upon being acknowledged for legitimately good quality work? I know I’ve done it far too many times, to the point where my first reaction when I do well on something is utter disbelief. Sometimes I find myself sitting in class listening to the quick-witted remarks of my peers, asking questions I didn’t even think to ask the professor, and feel like I’m simply not qualified to be in the course at all. Irrational it may be, but I also worry about my impending summer internship, questioning how I secured the position in the first place and convinced that after the first few weeks on the job the company will regret their decision once they find out who I “really” am. And I know I’m not the only one.

While I won’t pretend to be an expert on the issue, I do have a few theories on why it continues to prevail among perfectly smart, competent people with have every reason to be fully confident in their own abilities. When the individuals around you are questioning and doubting their successes on a regular basis, it’s only natural that you begin to do the same. After all, who are you to be self-assured on your expertise when that genius girl who sits next to you is fretting over her perceived utter lack of knowledge on a presentation, wondering how she was able to produce such a dubious performance in the first place? If every time the professor hands back the exams and the first thing your friend says is: “I don’t understand how I pulled this off, but thank god I tricked him” in reference to her good grade, don’t you begin to question your own A? Maybe you didn’t know the material so well after all; perhaps you somehow “fooled” your professor as well. It is the continued propagation of these insecurities that cause them to evolve into the norm, and it is the responsibility of each of us to make a concerted effort to accept our successes with modesty, yes, but to accept them nonetheless and allow them to build our confidence and character. If you can hold your head up high and fight the urge to cast self-doubt on your next hard-earned achievement, you are giving the unspoken permission to peers to do the same. And then everyone can finally own the gifted, accomplished, talented people that they most definitely are—without any so-called impostors in sight.