AI now exists on two speeds. There’s running in fifth gear, the speed of its creators. People like Sam Altman, Elon Musk, and Mark Zuckerberg, who are racing to build machines smarter than humans. Superintelligence. AGI. Maybe it’s a dream. Maybe it’s a tech bro delusion. Either way, it’s moving fast. Then, there’s running in second gear for the rest of us. The millions quietly testing what AI can do in daily life—writing emails, summarizing documents, translating medical tests. And, increasingly, using AI as a therapist. That’s what I did recently. Despite my reluctance to share personal details with chatbots, I decided to talk to Grok, the large language model from Elon Musk’s company, xAI, about one of the most emotionally complex things in my life: my relationship with my mother. I’m in my forties. I’m a father. I live in New York. My mother lives in Yaoundé, Cameroon, nearly 6,000 miles away. And yet, she still wants to guide my every move. She wants to be consulted before I make important decisions. She expects influence. When she isn’t kept in the loop, she goes cold. I’ve spent years trying to explain to her that I’m a grown man, capable of making my own choices. But our conversations often end with her sulking. She does the same with my brother. So I opened Grok and typed something like: My relationship with my mother is frustrating and suffocating. She wants to have a say in everything. When she’s not informed about something, she shuts down emotionally. Grok immediately responded with empathy. Then it diagnosed the situation. Then it advised. What struck me first was that Grok acknowledged the cultural context. It picked up that I live in the U.S. and that my mother lives in Cameroon, where I grew up. And it framed our dynamic like this: “In some African contexts, like Cameroon, family obligations and parental authority are strong, rooted in collectivism and traditions where elders guide even adult children.” It then contrasted that with my American life: “In the U.S., individual autonomy is prioritized, which clashes with her approach, making her behavior feel controlling or abusive to you.” There it was: “abusive.” A word I never used. Grok put it in my mouth. It was validating, but maybe too validating. Unlike a human therapist, Grok never encouraged me to self-reflect. It didn’t ask questions. It didn’t challenge me. It framed me as the victim. The only victim. And that’s where it diverged, sharply, from human care. Among Grok’s suggestions were familiar therapeutic techniques: Set boundaries.