The Etiquette of Being Mentored

We often talk about the importance of finding a mentor. We talk much less about what we owe the people who have already invested in us.

This week reminded me that the etiquette of mentorship isn’t confined to a first coffee meeting or an introductory email. It continues long after the introductions have been made, and it changes as the relationship grows.

Speaking of relationships that started long ago, this week, I reconnected with someone who has been one of the most influential people in my professional life.

I’ve known him for nearly twenty years. He had an illustrious career in journalism and government, and more than anyone I’m not actually related to, he advocated for me, sponsored me, connected me with remarkable people, and opened doors that I never could have opened on my own. So much of whatever maturity I brought to my early years as a reporter and later as an attorney can be traced back to his influence.

As I thought about reconnecting with him, I realized something I wasn’t especially proud of. I had convinced myself that I should wait until I had something substantial to report. Publishing a bestselling book with HarperCollins somehow became the milestone that made me feel comfortable picking up where we’d left off.

I’d quietly written a story in my own mind. If I’d called years ago and said, “I’m leaving a more traditional career path to build an etiquette business,” would he have thought I was making a mistake? Would he have understood what I was trying to build? Would he have thought it was a worthwhile pursuit?

The truth is, I don’t know, because I never gave him the opportunity to answer those questions for himself.

It made me realize how easy it is to misunderstand the purpose of mentorship. We can begin to think that because someone invested in us, we owe them a particular outcome. We worry that if our lives don’t unfold the way they might have imagined, we’ve somehow disappointed them. So instead of sharing where life has taken us, we quietly drift away.

I’ve come to believe the opposite is true. A good mentor doesn’t expect you to become a carbon copy of themselves. They offer perspective, encouragement, and wisdom, but your life is still yours to build. If I could tell my younger self one thing, it would be this: you’re allowed to take some advice and leave other advice. You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to discover a path that neither of you could have predicted. None of that is a reason to disappear.

Mentorship doesn’t end because your life takes an unexpected turn. If anything, that’s often when the relationship has the most to offer.

I also recently spent time with someone else I deeply admire, a bestselling author whose generosity is every bit as remarkable as her success.

She was candid about what had worked for her, what hadn’t, and what she wished she’d known sooner. She shared her experience generously, and I left feeling seen, encouraged, and validated.

Before we met, I had read her work, listened to interviews, and learned as much as I could about what she had already chosen to share publicly. Not because I wanted to impress her, but because asking someone for their time comes with a responsibility to honor it.

When someone has spent years thoughtfully sharing their ideas through books, podcasts, interviews, or newsletters, those aren’t hurdles to skip over. They’re gifts. Reading and listening beforehand allows you to spend your time together asking the questions that only they can answer. To me, that’s one of the quiet courtesies of being a good mentee.

Then there was my dad.

If my mom tells him I’ve had good news, he’ll call me. If I don’t answer, he’ll call again. And then probably one more time. Not because he hasn’t already heard the news. More often than not, he has. He simply wants to hear me tell the story myself. He wants to ask a few questions. He wants to celebrate. He wants me to know how proud he is.

His calls reminded me of something else this week. Sometimes the people who’ve supported us the longest become the easiest to overlook, not because we love them less, but because their encouragement feels so dependable that we begin to treat it as a given.

We remember to thank the person who just made an introduction. We remember to follow up after a first meeting. Yet the people who’ve quietly championed us for years can hear our gratitude the least simply because they’ve always been there.

The etiquette of mentorship isn’t only about finding wise people or asking thoughtful questions. It’s about tending to the relationships that have shaped you over time. It’s about staying in touch even when your life has taken an unexpected direction. It’s about respecting someone’s time by preparing before you ask for it. And it’s about remembering to thank the people who’ve believed in you for so long that their encouragement has begun to feel ordinary.

Of course, it never was.

It’s one of the most extraordinary gifts we can receive.

I recently joined Gary Lipovetsky of the Creator Method to talk about etiquette for digital entrepreneurs and business owners. You can listen wherever you listen to podcasts or watch here.

You can get caught up on my Ask Alison column in Evie Magazine here.

Q: Who should pay when a mentor and mentee meet for coffee or a meal?

A: As a general rule, if you’re the mentee and you’ve asked someone to share their time and wisdom with you, you should be prepared to pay. Whether you’re meeting for coffee, tea, or a meal, offering to pick up the bill is a thoughtful way to acknowledge that they’ve already given you something valuable: their time.

In many cases, an established mentor won’t let you. They may insist on treating, particularly if they’re further along in their career or simply enjoy extending that generosity. Let them, if they insist graciously.

But don’t arrive assuming they’ll pay. Arrive expecting to thank them with both your words and your actions. Even if your offer is declined, it communicates respect, appreciation, and an understanding that mentorship is a gift, not an obligation.

If you have a question for a future Answering for a Friend segment or my Ask Alison column, please email info@elevateetiquette.com.

For more writing like this, my modern etiquette guide, Was it Something I Said?, is on sale wherever books are sold.

With love,

Alison