Electric Adolescence

Let’s start with a classic therapeutic concept: locus of control—focusing on what we can control. Teens didn’t choose their genetics, their early attachment patterns, or the cultural and environmental chaos that shaped their developing brains. And now, as adolescents, everything is changing at once: their bodies, their minds, their social circles, and their hunger for independence—and, apparently, very expensive bikes (thanks to YouTuber Surronster).

Enter electric bikes—the street-legal ones and the far more tempting, not-quite-street-legal models like Surrons—now fully woven into adolescent risk-taking and brain development. Driving through North County San Diego, you’re sharing the road with everyone, including teens on electric bikes making split-second decisions that have me shaking my fist, shaking my head, and muttering prayers at red lights. Some ride responsibly. Others are testing fate, traffic, and physics all at once. Either way, the world is opening up at dizzying speeds—especially if, like mine, your kid has discovered YouTube videos about modifications.

Electric bikes aren’t just a modern working parent’s lifesaver that gets kids where they need to go—they’re also a perfect metaphor for adolescence itself. Suddenly, familiar streets, cul-de-sacs, and the local park aren’t enough. Teens are exploring new neighborhoods, testing speed, balance, and limits—often egged on by friends daring them to go faster, pull tricks, or ride bikes that aren’t exactly street-legal. Every ride challenges coordination, decision-making, and problem-solving—skills their brains are wiring in real time.

Neuroscience tells us that experiences where fear, curiosity, and peer influence collide are exactly what help build resilience, confidence, and independence. These moments—when teens take calculated risks and survive them—are how the adolescent brain learns.

Watching this as a parent is… intense. Your heart races, your stomach tightens, and part of you wants to shout, Stop! That’s too dangerous! Yet another part can’t help but marvel at their courage. At least, that’s been my experience watching my son spend two straight days working on popping a wheelie—focused, determined, falling, trying again—until he finally mastered it. At that point, he became his own little circus, and I became equal parts proud and terrified.

These rides are microcosms of adolescent life: negotiating peer pressure, testing boundaries, and learning how far they can safely push themselves. Their nervous systems are practicing regulation, and their brains are forming new connections every time they take a risk—and live to tell the story.

It’s also funny—and surprisingly heartwarming—how much teens want to be in the know. They crave the latest gadgets, mods, and tricks to impress friends or simply feel competent in their world. But the real lessons aren’t in the bravado—they’re in the experience itself.

As a mother, this is a delicate balance. You want them informed, streetwise, and confident—but also grounded in reality. It’s hard to lecture on safety when you ride a motorcycle yourself, but that honesty opens a doorway to connection. They see courage modeled, limits respected, and joy in risk—not reckless abandon.

Adolescence is messy, exhilarating, and occasionally terrifying. Electric bikes—both the street-legal ones and the maybe-we-shouldn’t-be-on-those kinds—are the perfect symbol: independence tangled with risk, courage paired with fear, and peer pressure nudging choices that truly matter. As parents and therapists, our job is to cheer from the sidelines, hold boundaries, and marvel as these young humans ride not only across town (thank God for phone location tracking), but straight toward becoming who they are—and eventually growing their frontal lobes.

So, dear friend, watch them pop the wheelie while your heart nearly leaves your chest. This, inconveniently, is their job in adolescence—which, as the kids say, is low-key fire.

The Good-Enough Electric Bike Mom,

Mandy