Lately, I’ve found myself hesitating when asked to mentor someone – not out of unwillingness, but because of a recurring issue: a lack of shared understanding around what mentorship really entails.
It seems many people seek out a mentor as if it’s the next logical step, without pausing to reflect on what they’re actually looking for – or what they’re bringing to the table. And that’s where things often begin to unravel. Mentorship has taken on a kind of mythic status – a golden key to success, a shortcut to wisdom, a badge of seriousness. But the truth is, mentorship isn’t a transaction. It’s a relationship. One that only works when it’s built on mutual commitment, curiosity, and a clear sense of purpose.
Everyone wants a mentor. It’s become almost a rite of passage in professional and personal growth. We’re told to seek out people who’ve walked the path before us, who can offer us shortcuts, insights, and confidence. And it’s not bad advice. The right mentor can be life-changing. But somewhere along the way, mentorship has become misunderstood – reduced to a buzzword, a line on a checklist, or a stand-in for doing the real work ourselves.
What I’ve increasingly noticed – and heard echoed by many peers who take mentorship seriously – is that while people are eager to find a mentor, they’re far less prepared to be mentored.
Too often, people show up to mentorship conversations unprepared. No questions. No context. No clarity. It feels less like someone inviting you into their learning journey, and more like they’re hoping you’ll hand them a ready-made map. There’s nothing more deflating than showing up with the intent to support someone’s growth, only to realize they haven’t taken the time to reflect on what they need or how they plan to use your insight.
Mentorship is not a subscription service. It’s not about showing up every few weeks for a casual chat and hoping osmosis will do the rest. It’s not a standing coffee date or a professional therapy session. It’s a shared investment in your growth. And like any real investment, it works best when there’s momentum. When there’s some evidence that insights have been applied. When each conversation builds on the last.
But more often than not, nothing has moved between touchpoints. There’s no progress, no reflection, no real attempt to turn conversation into action. And while mentorship shouldn’t feel like homework, it’s also not meant to be passive. If nothing changes between sessions, then what exactly are we doing?
It’s worth saying out loud: mentorship may have a social element, but it is not a substitute for socializing. It’s not a hangout. And it certainly isn’t a reward for potential. It’s a space where wisdom meets willingness. Where shared experience is meant to support forward motion. And if that forward motion is missing, it becomes a frustrating and inefficient use of energy for everyone involved.
The best mentorships I’ve witnessed are marked by a sense of intentionality – on both sides. The mentee brings thoughtful questions and a clear ask. The mentor responds with honest insights, challenge, and support. There’s rhythm, accountability, and respect. Not in the form of rigid rules, but in the form of meaningful engagement.
Mentors don’t need mentees. Mentees need mentors. That power dynamic is rarely acknowledged, but it’s important. A mentor is offering their time and energy without obligation. The mentee is the one asking for help. And when that help is treated casually – when it’s taken for granted, or worse, consumed without action – it diminishes the very spirit of the exchange.
We live in a culture of access. You can message CEOs, sit in on office hours, and join communities where accomplished people willingly share what they’ve learned. But access without readiness is just noise. It leads to shallow engagement, forgettable conversations, and the slow erosion of generosity. Because over time, people stop showing up when they realize their time isn’t being valued.
If you’re lucky enough to find someone who’s willing to share their lived experience with you, treat that as a responsibility, not just an opportunity. Do the work. Ask better questions. Reflect on what you’re learning. Apply what you can. Come back not just with updates, but with insight. Growth. A sense that something is shifting because of the time you’re spending together.
The irony of mentorship is that the best mentors don’t give you answers – they give you back to yourself. They hold up a mirror, a light, a lens. But you have to be willing to look, to step into what you see, and to do something with it.
Before you go searching for a mentor, ask yourself: Am I ready to be mentored? Am I prepared to bring more than just my ambition to the table? Am I willing to follow through between conversations, even when there’s no assignment or deadline?
Because when you’re ready – really ready – mentorship becomes something extraordinary. Not because someone gives you a roadmap, but because you learn to build your own, with a little bit of guidance and a lot of self-leadership.
And in the end, maybe that’s what the best mentorship really is: not someone lighting the path for you, but someone making sure you don’t forget to carry your own torch.