Impostor syndrome seems to me to be a common affliction among successful women. Even the thought of calling myself a “successful woman” makes me bristle and feel like I’ve put some kind of jinx on myself.

Although I can see, objectively, that I’ve accomplished a lot and that I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am, my stupid, fragile sense of self-esteem will not allow me to accept that. I fear that allowing myself to experience a sense of pride or accomplishment will make it all go away. I’m convinced that every job I do will be my last — and soon, I’ll be found out for the talent-less fraud that I really am.