People ask me this one like they're hoping for a warranty. "Is a mentoring relationship supposed to last a year? Two? Forever?" I get why — we like knowing the rules going in. But I've been mentored, and I've mentored other people, for most of forty-plus years now, and I can tell you there's no expiration date stamped on the bottom. Some of mine lasted a single tough season and did more for me than relationships I've kept for decades. So the real question isn't "how long," it's "how do I know when it's still working — and what do I do when it's not?"
Article Summary
Let me tell you where I'm coming from, because it shapes how I see this. I started working at 17, the June of my senior year of high school. I was married at 22, and by 23 I owned a home and was somebody's dad. I grew up fast, and I learned pretty quick that the people who helped me most didn't show up on a schedule and they didn't stick around on one either. They came when I needed them, poured in what they had, and some of them faded out when the season changed. That used to make me sad. Now I think it's how the whole thing is supposed to work.
There's No Number Stamped on the Bottom
Let's kill the myth first. There is no correct length for a mentoring relationship. Anybody who tells you "a good mentorship lasts exactly X months" is selling you something. I've had mentors for three months and mentors for thirty years, and the length told me almost nothing about the value.
What actually matters is whether growth is still happening. A mentoring relationship exists for one reason — to help you become more than you are. The day it stops doing that, its length stops being the point. I've seen people cling to a mentor for years out of loyalty or habit long after the two of them ran out of road, and I've seen people walk away from a great one too early because they got impatient. Both are mistakes, and both come from watching the calendar instead of watching the growth.
Think about it like a good coach. A batting coach might fix your swing in six weeks. That doesn't mean he failed because he didn't stay for six years. He did exactly what he was there to do. Mentoring's the same. Sometimes the job is big and takes a decade. Sometimes the job is one specific thing, and once it's done, the relationship can shift into a friendship, go quiet, or gracefully wrap up. None of those is a failure.
Mentoring Comes in Seasons
The most useful thing I ever figured out about this is that mentoring runs in seasons, not in one long straight line. And different seasons need different things.
Early in my career, I needed the kind of mentor who'd tell me flat out what to do — because I didn't know what I didn't know. Later, working my way up through big outfits like Coca-Cola, Estée Lauder, and AmerisourceBergen, I needed a different kind: less "do this" and more "let's think this through." And now, as an Engineering and Reliability Manager at Oerlikon in my sixties, I need mentors who'll challenge my blind spots and call me on my own comfort. Same guy, three completely different needs. No single mentor was ever going to cover all of it, and it would've been unfair to ask one to try.
The Seasons a Mentoring Relationship Moves Through
- The intensive season. New job, big transition, hard problem. You meet often, you lean hard, you grow fast. These are usually short and unforgettable.
- The steady season. The urgent thing is handled, but the relationship keeps paying off at a slower, quieter pace. Fewer meetings, still valuable.
- The evolving season. The gap between you narrows. What started as mentor-and-mentee starts feeling more like two peers who respect each other. This is a good sign, not a sad one.
- The wind-down season. You've gotten what this relationship had to give. The meetings feel like maintenance. That's not a betrayal — that's a graduation.
Here's the freeing part: you're allowed to have more than one, and you're allowed to let one end while another begins. I've never had a single all-purpose mentor for life, and I've stopped feeling guilty about it. What I've had is the right person for the right stretch of road. When the road changed, sometimes the person did too. That's not disloyalty. That's just paying attention to what you actually need.
Signs It's Still Working (and Signs It's Not)
So how do you tell which season you're in — and whether it's time to keep going or gently move on? You stop asking "how long has this lasted" and start asking "what's it producing." Here's the honest gut-check I use.
It's Still Working If…
- You leave conversations thinking differently than you came in.
- You're still being stretched — a little uncomfortable, a little challenged.
- You're actually doing something with what you talk about, not just talking.
- Both of you still show up glad to be there, not out of obligation.
- The trust is deep enough that you can hear a hard truth without getting defensive.
It Might Be Time to Change or End It If…
- Every meeting feels like a rerun — same advice, same nodding, no movement.
- You're staying out of guilt or habit, not because you're growing.
- You've outgrown the specific thing this person was great at helping with.
- One of you is clearly just going through the motions.
- You dread the meetings instead of looking forward to them.
Now, one honest warning, because I've gotten this wrong myself: don't confuse "this is hard" with "this is over." Real growth is uncomfortable. If you're squirming because your mentor keeps pushing you toward something you're avoiding, that's the relationship working, not failing. The time to move on isn't when it's uncomfortable — it's when it's comfortable and stagnant. Boredom is the warning sign. Discomfort is often the whole point. If you're not sure which one you're feeling, that itself is a great thing to bring up out loud with your mentor.
How to End It — or Change It — Without Burning It Down
Let's say you've looked at it honestly and a season really is ending. This is where a lot of good relationships get quietly ruined — not by a fight, but by a fade. Somebody stops replying. Meetings get "rescheduled" into oblivion. Both people know it's over but nobody says so, and a relationship that gave you a lot ends in awkward silence. Don't do that. You're better than the slow ghost.
A mentoring relationship that mattered deserves an honest wrap-up, and honestly, it's not that hard. You just have to say the true thing out loud.
How to Close a Season the Right Way
- Name it directly. "I feel like I've grown so much from this, and I think I'm ready to take what you've taught me and run with it." Clean, honest, kind.
- Lead with gratitude, and be specific. Tell them exactly what changed in you because of them. People rarely hear this, and it lands hard.
- Offer to shift, not just stop. A lot of mentorships don't end — they change gears into friendship or a check-in once or twice a year. Leave that door open.
- Don't disappear. Whatever you decide, a real thank-you beats vanishing every single time.
I'll be straight with you about why I take this seriously. I've had a lot of goodbyes in my life, some of them the kind you don't get a redo on — I lost my first wife to breast cancer after 23 years of marriage. That kind of loss teaches you something you carry into everything: you don't leave the important things unsaid, and you don't let a relationship that shaped you slide out the back door without a word of thanks. A mentoring relationship is nowhere near that weight, obviously. But the principle carries. If somebody gave you part of who you are, you tell them so before the season closes. Every time.
Why This Is Really the Law of the Ladder
Here's where this whole question connects to something bigger. One of John C. Maxwell's 15 Laws of Growth is the Law of the Ladder, and it says this: character growth determines the height of your personal growth. How high you can climb is set by the strength of what's underneath you — your character. Skills get you up a few rungs. Character determines how far the ladder can actually reach.
That's the real answer to "how long should a mentoring relationship last." Because the mentoring relationships that end quickly are almost always the ones that were only ever about a skill — fix my swing, help me get the promotion, teach me this one thing. Nothing wrong with those. They do their job and they wrap up, and that's healthy. But the ones that last for years, sometimes for life, are the ones that stopped being about skills and started being about character. Those mentors weren't just teaching me what to do. They were shaping who I was becoming. And that work is never really finished, so the relationship never really has to be.
I came to all of this the long way around. I attended college but never finished — for years I thought that was a hole in my story I had to cover up. What I finally understood is that I learned leadership on a factory floor, not in a classroom, and the people who taught me most weren't handing me techniques. They were building something in me: how to keep my word, how to take responsibility, how to treat people when nobody's watching. That's character work. That's the Law of the Ladder in real life. It's why becoming a John Maxwell Executive Coach, writing Leadership Between the Lines, and building the LBL-10 workshop all came out of relationships that lasted way longer than any single lesson. They weren't fixing my swing. They were raising the whole ladder.
The Quick Version
There's no correct length for a mentoring relationship — only the question of whether you're still growing. Mentoring runs in seasons, and different seasons need different mentors, so having more than one over a life is normal and healthy. It's still working if you're being stretched and acting on it; it's time to change gears when it's comfortable and stagnant (not just when it's hard). End a season honestly, with specific gratitude, and leave the door open to friendship. The short relationships are usually about a skill. The long ones are about character — and that's the Law of the Ladder: character growth determines how high you can climb.
Reflection Questions
Pick one and sit with it before you decide to double down on a mentoring relationship — or let one go:
- Which season is my current mentoring relationship in — intensive, steady, evolving, or winding down?
- Am I staying because I'm still growing, or because it's comfortable and familiar?
- Am I confusing "this is hard" with "this is over"?
- Is there a mentor from a past season I never properly thanked?
- Which of my relationships is about a skill — and which is quietly building my character?
The Bottom Line
So how long should a mentoring relationship last? Exactly as long as it keeps growing you — no longer, and not a day less out of impatience. Stop watching the calendar and start watching the fruit. Some of the best mentoring relationships of your life will be short, intense, and unforgettable. Some will stretch across decades and turn into friendships you can't imagine living without. Both are wins. The only real failure is staying somewhere stagnant out of habit, or letting a relationship that shaped you disappear without a thank-you.
Here's what I'd do this week: take an honest look at the mentoring relationships you've got right now, name the season each one is in, and act on it. Lean harder into the one that's still stretching you. And if there's one that quietly wrapped up years ago and you never said so — go say thank you. It's never too late to close a season the right way.
This ties back to The Law of the Ladder — one of John C. Maxwell's 15 Laws of Growth.
About Jay Olivo
Jay is a John Maxwell Executive Coach, DISC consultant, and CPMM-certified reliability leader with a career spanning Coca-Cola, Estée Lauder, AmerisourceBergen, and Oerlikon. He's the author of Leadership Between the Lines and creator of the LBL-10 workshop. Jay learned leadership on the factory floor, not in a classroom — and writes with Heart, Humor, and Help. Read Jay's full story →
Continue Learning
Want Mentoring That Grows With You?
John's 15 Laws Mastermind gives you the guided structure, real relationships, and accountability to keep growing through every season — not just one.
Apply for the Next Mastermind