“You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” — Jim Rohn
Read that again. Slower this time. Let it land where it needs to.
Now look at your five closest people—the ones you text at 2 AM, the ones who shape your daily conversations, the ones whose opinions echo in your head when you’re making decisions.
What’s the average?
Because here’s the brutal math: if your five are chaos, codependency, drama, avoidance, and dysfunction—then that’s exactly what you’re becoming. Not because you’re weak. Not because you’re broken. But because proximity is destiny.
The Circle You Keep Is The Life You Get
I spent years surrounded by people who normalized things that should have been dealbreakers:
- The friend who always had a crisis (and made my stability feel boring by comparison)
- The family member who created drama then expected me to manage it
- The ex who came back every time his chaos became too costly (I was his methadone, not his choice)
- The coworker who dumped emotional labor on me like it was my job description
- The “mentor” who kept me small so they could feel big
I called this my support system.
What it actually was: a five-person conspiracy to keep me exactly where I was.
Because here’s what nobody tells you about your circle: they have a vested interest in you staying the same. When you grow, you disrupt the ecosystem. When you set boundaries, you threaten the dynamic. When you level up, you expose what they’re not doing.
Your circle doesn’t want you to fail. But they don’t necessarily want you to fly either.
The Brutal Audit
Jim Rohn was right, but he left out the hardest part: looking at your five and realizing you need to rebuild from scratch.
So let’s do the audit. Right now. Who are your five?
For each person, ask:
- Do they have what I want? (In relationships, career, emotional health, boundaries, self-respect?)
- Do they challenge me to grow or enable me to stay stuck?
- Do they celebrate my progress or subtly undermine it?
- Am I better or worse after spending time with them?
- Would I want to become the average of them and four others like them?
Be honest. Brutally honest. Because every person in your circle is either lifting your average or lowering it.
There’s no neutral. There’s no “yeah, but they mean well.” There’s only: Are they moving you toward the life you want or anchoring you to the life you’re trying to leave?
My Five-Person Reckoning
When I finally did this audit, I realized something devastating: my circle was full of people who needed me to stay broken.
Not because they were evil. Because my dysfunction served their ecosystem.
- My chaos-addicted friend needed me to stay in drama so she didn’t feel alone in hers
- My boundary-less family member needed me to stay enmeshed so the system didn’t shift
- My emotionally unavailable ex needed me available so he had somewhere soft to land between his real addictions
- My perpetual-victim coworker needed me to rescue so she never had to face consequences
- My small-minded mentor needed me to stay beneath her so she never had to confront her own stagnation
I was the average of five people invested in my mediocrity.
And I wondered why I couldn’t break free.
The Upgrade: Reaching For Your Future Five
Here’s the part that feels impossible but changes everything: You have to reach for people who are where you want to be.
Not where you are. Not people who “get you” because they’re stuck in the same patterns. Not people who make you feel comfortable because they don’t challenge your bullshit.
People who have what you want.
For me, that meant:
- Reaching out to women in healthy relationships (even though mine was a dumpster fire)
- Connecting with people who had boundaries that actually held (even though mine collapsed on contact)
- Following people who chose themselves first without apologizing (even though I was addicted to self-sacrifice)
- Seeking mentors who had built the life I wanted (even though I felt like an imposter)
- Joining rooms where I was the least accomplished person (even though my ego hated it)
It was terrifying. Because suddenly I wasn’t the expert. I wasn’t the savior. I wasn’t the one people came to for advice.
I was the beginner. The student. The one who had to shut up and learn.
Best decision I ever made.
The Table: Your Relationship’s Sacred Space
But here’s where it gets even more critical: in a romantic relationship, you and your partner are the only ones who sit at the table.
Picture this: You and your person have a table. It’s where decisions get made. Where the relationship lives. Where you two determine the direction, the boundaries, the values, the vision.
Only you two sit there.
Others can stand near the table and advise:
- Therapists who offer tools and perspective
- Trusted friends who hold you accountable
- Mentors who’ve walked the path before you
- Family members who genuinely want your success
But they don’t get a seat. They don’t make the calls. They don’t have veto power.
Because the moment you let someone else sit at your table, you’ve created a third partner in your relationship. And that third partner? They’re not sleeping with you. They’re not building a life with you. They’re not living with the consequences of the decisions they’re influencing.
Your table is sacred. Guard it like your life depends on it. Because it does.
The Friends Who Want To Sit
I learned this the hard way when my best friend thought she had voting rights on my relationship.
She didn’t like him. Fair enough—she had her reasons. But instead of advising and stepping back, she tried to sit at my table. Started making ultimatums. Started creating scenarios where I had to choose between them. Started positioning herself as the arbiter of my romantic decisions.
I had to remove her from the circle entirely.
Not because her concerns were invalid. But because she couldn’t advise without trying to control. She couldn’t stand near the table without trying to flip it.
And here’s what I realized: People who respect your table don’t try to sit at it. They offer perspective, share their concerns, and trust you to make your own decisions. They don’t create false binaries. They don’t issue ultimatums. They don’t make your relationship about them.
Anyone trying to sit at your table is telling you they don’t trust you at your own table.
That’s not friendship. That’s control with concern-trolling.
The Family Who Never Left The Table
For others, it’s family who refuses to leave the table—parents who think they get permanent seating, siblings who believe blood = voting rights, in-laws who act like they’re the shadow board of directors.
Nope.
Your mother doesn’t sit at your table. Your father doesn’t sit at your table. Your sister doesn’t sit at your table. They can stand. They can advise. They can share wisdom from their own marriages and mistakes.
But they don’t get to make decisions for your relationship.
This is especially crucial when you’re breaking generational patterns. When you’re building something healthier than what you came from. When you’re choosing differently than they did.
They’ll fight for their seat. They’ll call it “caring.” They’ll weaponize “concern.” They’ll make you feel selfish for having boundaries around your relationship.
Let them. Your table is not a democracy. It’s a partnership.
Why The Circle Determines The Table
Here’s why Jim Rohn’s five-person rule matters so critically in relationships: the people in your circle will try to influence your table.
If your five are:
- Drama-addicted → They’ll tell you healthy relationships are “boring”
- Boundary-less → They’ll say your boundaries are “controlling”
- Codependent → They’ll tell you independence is “selfish”
- Chaos-normalized → They’ll call your peace “settling”
- Dysfunction-comfortable → They’ll make your growth feel like betrayal
Your circle will either protect your table or try to dismantle it.
That’s why upgrading your five isn’t just about personal growth—it’s about protecting the sanctity of your relationship.
You need people in your circle who:
- Respect healthy boundaries (so they model them for you)
- Have successful relationships (so they can spot red flags you’re normalizing)
- Honor your table (so they don’t try to sit at it)
- Challenge you to grow (so you don’t stay stuck in comfortable dysfunction)
- Celebrate your success (so your progress doesn’t threaten them)
Your five should make it easier to have a healthy table, not harder.
The Lonely Season Of Upgrading
I’m not going to lie: rebuilding your circle is lonely as hell.
You’re going to have a period where you’ve released the old five but haven’t fully connected with the new five. Where you’re reaching for people who seem out of your league. Where you feel like you don’t belong anywhere.
That’s the gap. The in-between. The place where your old circle doesn’t fit anymore but your new circle doesn’t feel natural yet.
Stay in the gap.
Because what’s on the other side is worth it: a circle that lifts your average instead of lowering it. People who protect your table instead of trying to sit at it. A life that reflects your values instead of someone else’s dysfunction.
The New Five-Person Filter
Now, every potential person in my circle gets filtered through these questions:
- Do they have what I want? (Happy relationship, strong boundaries, emotional health, success in areas I’m building?)
- Do they respect my table? (Can they advise without controlling? Support without inserting themselves into my relationship decisions?)
- Am I better after time with them? (More grounded, more clear, more courageous—or more anxious, more confused, more stuck?)
- Do they celebrate my growth or feel threatened by it? (Growth disruptors have to go, period.)
- Would I be proud to be the average of them? (If I became more like them every day, would I be moving toward or away from my goals?)
If the answer to any of these is no, they don’t get proximity.
Not because they’re bad people. But because I’m done being the average of people who keep me small.
Your Table, Your Choice, Your Life
Here’s what I want you to understand: You get to choose who influences your life. You get to choose who advises your relationship. You get to choose who sits at your table.
And anyone who fights you on those choices is showing you exactly why they shouldn’t be in your circle.
Your five should make you better. Your table should be sacred. Your circle should lift you.
Anything less is just a conspiracy to keep you exactly where you are.
The Work
So do the audit. Look at your five. Be honest about who’s lifting and who’s lowering.
Then make the hard calls:
- Release the people who need you stuck
- Reach for the people who are where you want to be
- Protect your table like your relationship depends on it (because it does)
- Get comfortable being the least accomplished in the room
- Trust that the loneliness of the gap is temporary
You are the average of your five.
Make sure they’re worth averaging.
Choose All,
Viktoria
P.S. – If you’re scared to upgrade your circle because “these are my people” or “they’ve been there for me” or “family is family,” ask yourself: Are they actually FOR you, or are they just familiar? Because proximity isn’t the same as support. And longevity isn’t the same as healthy. Sometimes the people who’ve been there the longest are the ones keeping you from getting where you need to go.
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