You've heard it before.
"You're the average of the five people you spend the most time with."
Everyone nods. Nobody does anything about it.
Because doing something about it is painful.
Let me make it real:
Look at the five people you spend the most time with.
Their income. Their health. Their discipline. Their ambition. Their marriage.
Now look at yours.
See it?
That's not a coincidence. That's gravity.
The people around you aren't neutral. They're pull.
Every conversation is pulling you somewhere. Every hangout. Every group chat. Every relationship.
Toward growth or toward stagnation.
Toward the man you want to become or toward the man you've always been.
And here's the part nobody wants to say out loud:
Some of the people closest to you are the biggest drag on your life.
Not because they're bad people.
This isn't about villains. Most of the people holding you back love you.
But they're comfortable. And they need you to be comfortable too.
Because your growth threatens their stagnation.
When you start waking up early, they ask why you're being so intense.
When you start building something, they ask why you can't just be content.
When you start changing, they feel the gap. And instead of closing it, they try to pull you back.
"You've changed."
Yeah. That was the point.
Here's how relational drag works:
It's not usually confrontational. It's subtle.
A comment here. A joke there. A raised eyebrow. A "must be nice."
It's the friend who always wants to go out when you need to work.
It's the guy who mocks your goals because he abandoned his.
It's the group that only bonds over complaints, never plans.
It slowly erodes your standards. Your discipline. Your vision.
Not because anyone is trying to destroy you. Because mediocrity is comfortable, and misery loves company.
I had to make hard calls.
Not cutting everyone off—that's not what this is about. I'm not telling you to ghost your friends.
But I had to get honest about who was pulling me forward and who was pulling me back.
I had to stop spending my best energy with people who wanted me to stay the same.
I had to find people who were where I wanted to be—and get in those rooms.
Was it uncomfortable? Absolutely.
Was it necessary? I wouldn't be writing this if it wasn't.
Here's the question:
Who are your five?
And where are they taking you?
If the answer makes you uncomfortable, good.
Discomfort is the first step toward change.
Done negotiating.
-Joel

