Here is a link to one of the best articles I’ve seen describing PDA …
PDA
Educated
I just finished reading Educated by Tara Westover. I’m not really going to review the book, other than to say that it is well written, and interesting. I would have liked more description of emotion but as we’ve discussed before, that’s a me thing. The book is good. I would recommend it. I don’t actually want to talk about the book though. I want to talk about the thoughts the book inspired.

Towards the end she, Tara, has a conversation with her mother where she felt seen, finally. Without getting to deeply into the story (I don’t want to spoil anything), this conversation sparked an internal shift in Tara. Upon reflection, she realized that the shame she had carried throughout her life wasn’t about her life circumstances, it had much more to do with the messages she received about herself, her worth, her identity, through her parents words and actions. Their refusal to accept her for the whole and unique person that she is.
This got me thinking about the weight we carry as parents. The responsibility that we have to our children. And the almost hypnotic power our parents tend to still have over us as adults. I’m not sure we ever fully get out from underneath those wounds.
The chances of my own mother ever fully seeing and accepting me as I am is near zero. I’ve accepted that and that I have to be that source of acceptance and validation for myself. I was going to write that I’m not sure I know how to do that, but no, I am sure that I do not. It’s something that I struggle with constantly and I’m sure will to some degree all of my life.
How, knowing the affect our parents have had on us, do we go about parenting our own children? I understand that it isn’t possible to not cause your child any damage, but I definitely would like to minimize any negative affect my unhealed parts have on my son and maximize the affect of the opposite.
I don’t know. I’m struggling here.
As I’ve talked about before, my son is autistic, PDA profile. I’ve finally (after about two years of searching) found someone who should be able to accurately assess him that I can afford. My hope is that she will be able to recommend appropriate support. Even with support, I’m having a hard time seeing how I can find balance in my life. Balance between his needs and my own.
I’ve recently seen a few videos about a study done on the effects of parenting a PDA child on the parents (link to first video in the series) and I received this comment, “PDA tends to be the hardest parenting, a 110% job”, when emailing about my son’s upcoming assessment. Both of these things were highly validating.
I’m not going to sit here and complain. I am so grateful for my son. It took me twenty years to get him (long story, I’ll save that for another day). He is my miracle and I love him so much. But…In this society, with the lack of support given to any and all parents, how are we meant to not only survive but thrive as parents? To give our children the best of ourselves so that we can stop passing down these old wounds that no longer serve anyone? Please, comment with your thoughts and experiences.
Pervasive Drive for Autonomy
I’ve mentioned before that my son is autistic with a PDA profile. PDA stands for pathological demand avoidance. There is push within the autism community to change the name to pervasive drive for autonomy. Aside from the fact that the term pathological demand avoidance is just plain stigmatizing, the reason for the proposed change is that the new name reflects what is really going on, a pervasive drive for autonomy.
People with PDA have a nervous system that becomes activated, i.e. they go into fight/flight/freeze, anytime there is a perceived loss of autonomy. Loss of autonomy is perceived as a threat to their life. This drive for autonomy outweighs all of their other survival drives and can make it difficult (if not impossible at times) for them to access survival needs like eating or sleep. This can look like demand avoidance but that is not the only way that it presents. At this point, I don’t think anyone really knows why this is, only that it is. What I know for sure, is that PDA children are intensely sensitive beings.
My sister and I were talking about this the other day. We were talking about how difficult it can be parenting a child with PDA because of their intense sensitivity. Casey from At Peace Parents says that in every interaction with your PDA child, you are either accommodating or activating their nervous system. Knowing my son the way that I do, I believe this is 100% accurate. Because of this, there is a need to think about what you’re doing in any interaction with your child in a way that a parent of a typical child would not have to. In what way should I phrase what I’m about to say to my child so that I don’t send him into fight or flight? Is what he is asking for doable? Who is involved? Are there any issues of safety? Do I have the energy to accommodate him? If I don’t, will he end up in a meltdown that requires more energy from me? And so on.
My sister and I were talking about this and how with as difficult as it can be, I am so glad that I am his mom. I came to parenting with the idea that children deserve respect and autonomy. I was able to see my son’s struggle as just that, struggle, not misbehavior and have been willing to do my best to accommodate him and learn what he needs from birth. This is not easy and it isn’t made any easier by the general view of how children should be parented in this society and the gross misunderstanding of PDA and autism in general. I practice low demand parenting. Many people, not understanding the PDA nervous system and it’s needs, mistake this as permissive parenting, AKA being a pushover. I’d like to give you an example from my life in order to illustrate what parenting a PDA child can look like in action.
My son likes cheesebread. He likes cheesebread from pizza places and he also likes to make it with his dad. My parents had ordered pizza and cheesebread the other day, so he has had cheesebread for breakfast the past few days. Yes, he eats cheesebread for breakfast. Alongside of it, he will have strawberry milk (a nutrition replacement shake), or his juice (multivitamin/magnesium/minerals) and fruit. This is the only way he will eat, at all… If he has his cheesebread.
He ate the last of it yesterday. He knew this but was not feeling ok with it. Last night, while getting him to sleep, he was insisting that he have cheesebread when we woke up. I explained that we didn’t have any. That if he wanted cheesebread, he would have to make some with Daddy. There were tears but we managed to get to sleep.
This morning, the first and only thing he would talk about was cheesebread. I’m not sure how to explain this in a way that will make sense to someone who isn’t in the situation, someone who doesn’t understand. He knew and understood that there was no cheesebread. He was upset about it but the lack of cheesebread wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he wasn’t able to choose what he wanted for breakfast. That I was telling him not only that he couldn’t have it but that if he wanted it, he had to make it. That I was telling him anything at all. His perception was that he had no autonomy in this situation and that is a threat to his survival.
He became withdrawn and wouldn’t talk, other than to say cheesebread and then began to follow me everywhere. Not demanding cheesebread. We had discussed it many times (“I’m sorry buddy. I know you really want cheesebread. If I could I would give you some. The only way that I know you get cheesebread is to make it”), he was following me because he felt unsafe and would feel that way until something gave him the feeling of having a sense of autonomy.
Other than the following of myself, this came out in what is described as equalizing behavior. Anything I did, he needed to do the opposite. I turned the TV down. He had to turn it up (he couldn’t figure out how so he muted it and watched it without sound). I got him water, he needed it in a different cup….
The thing is, he was hungry. He wanted to eat breakfast. We had other food he likes and did want but he could not let himself eat it until he felt safely autonomous. This autonomy occurred because while he was insisting that there was cheesebread in the fridge, I told him that I couldn’t find it, I needed him to find it for me. I told him that when he found it I would make it for him. We went and looked in the fridge. There was obviously no cheesebread. I asked where it was and he pointed to his juice that I had already mixed up. I gave it to him and everyone is referring to it as cheesebread(honestly, while we this was happening, I felt an immense sense of relief at finding a solution but also an acute sense of terror that someone might accidentally refer to this “cheesebread” as juice. Why? I know the consequence could be him stopping eating ask together or because his nervous system is experiencing distress around food, he’ll go back to being hypersensitive with food which causes him to vomit often. These are things that are always going through my mind). This freed him to be able to ask for what he actually wanted for breakfast… cornbread with honey and strawberry milk.
I don’t know if this is helpful in any way. I’m aware that you may read it and only see a spoiled brat with a permissive mother. I can only assure that that isn’t the case. Or maybe you’re scratching your head and saying but isn’t that just normal young child behavior… Young children are known for being demanding, after all. Again, I assure that is not the case. This behavior is pervasive. It is in all interactions, all of the time. My son is the sweetest boy you’ll ever meet but you can’t always see that. My son, once comfortable with you (because he is high making otherwise) will argue with everything you say because being told something, even if he asked you to tell him, is perceived as a loss of autonomy. It is a threat. My son, and other PDA children feel as if under almost constant threat. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and be gentle with them. And while you’re at it, be gentle with their caregivers and, you know, maybe give us the benefit of the doubt. We do know our children.
Confessional
I have a confession to make. I love my son, like more than I could ever possibly describe. He is my everything, but… Right now…I do not want to Mom, like, at all. And that my dear friends, is causing me to feel like a massive piece of shit human.
Here’s the deal, my recent life circumstances made it impossible for me to care for him in the way that I normally would. Thank everything holy, his dad was able to step in and fill the role that is and has been since my son’s birth, mine. The role of primary parent.
The part of me that feels like a massive piece of shit human wants to tell you that I got used to having less responsibility and I don’t want to give it up. The part of me that loves to beat myself up for everything, even the things out of my control, wants to hang it’s (my…our?) head and wallow in shame, calling myself selfish, self centered, lazy, uncaring, heartless, bad bad bad… Bad mom. The truth, I think, is more complicated.
I have, since my son was born, as is my tendency, given too much of myself. I, mostly on my own and chronically ill, attachment/gentle parent an autistic, PDA child. If you don’t understand what that means, I took the hard road without near enough support, in a broken body, with a child who is “extra”.
Looking back, I would not change the decisions that I made in my choices of how to parent but…I was burnt the fuck out before life just knocked me on my ass. *Sigh*. On top of that, the ass kicking that the universe just bestowed upon me, made a couple of things very clear to me. If I want to heal, I have to put myself first. I have to engage in the activities that bring me joy, peace, and help me to process. I have to invest time in my healing. I don’t get to just half ass try and fit healing tools in on the sly when I steal a moment alone. I HAVE TO. If not, my son won’t have a mom at all.
I wrote recently about how I healed the first time that I had a run in with chronic illness. On my own, in a safe space for the first time in my life, I spent my time learning what I needed (that’s key, what I actually needed) and immersing myself in those routines/activities. This is how I became regulated. This is how I healed.
I’m in a tough spot right now. My son’s father will be returning to work soon. I will have to go back to full time primary parent. And this is where I feel like a selfish asshole. I don’t want to. I feel resentful about it. I think that that actually makes sense though and it definitely doesn’t mean that I am a horrible person or mom. It means that I need to focus on healing and I an unsure of how to navigate this. How is it possible to find balance? It means that I’m scared, terrified really. What if I lose the gains that I’ve made? What if I’m unable to heal I’m this circumstance? What if, and I think this is my biggest fear, what if I don’t make it? And by that, I mean, I either become fully incapacitated or I lose my life and… The part of that that kicks me in the teeth, rips my guts out, stabs me straight through the fucking heart..my son doesn’t have his mom.
I feel like I need to be selfish temporarily,in order to ever truly be what he needs. Pray for me. Send me love. All the good things that might help me to figure out this balance. Or advice? Leave a comment below.
Can’t, not won’t
PDA (Pathological Demand Avoidance) mom rant incoming…
When my son and I wake up each morning, we spend some time in bed, cuddling and talking, before we get up to start the day. This morning, I mentioned that today was going to be cooler. My son’s immediate response, “no, it isn’t”. I started to explain a bit but was again hit with immediate denial and a bit of emotion.
“Ok, baby. I thought it was but I guess I was wrong.”
Period. End of conversation.
We go upstairs and my mom mentions the weather.
“It isn’t cold” Anger. Panic.
Grandma proceeds to push.
“Alright Mom, drop it.”
She knows he is PDA. She understands what this means. She continues to push. She needs to be right. It is in fact cool outside.
I snap and yell at her.
Why are we arguing with a four year old, period. A four year old with a nervous system disability….
PDA isn’t easy for caregivers but… It’s much harder for the child experiencing it. Every choice we make as caregivers either activates his nervous system or accommodates it, helps him to regulate. He doesn’t get a choice. He is just constantly in fight or flight.
There are decisions that are difficult to make. When and how often to push for him to take a bath, change his clothes, try a new food… But this… This was not one of them.
It is cool outside. I know this. My mom knows this. Accommodating a four year old with a nervous system disability by stating they opposite? Not a big deal.
I really hate living with other people.
Undiagnosis
If you look up the typical signs of autism in a toddler, my son doesn’t really fit the bill. He’s has had no language delays. No intellectual dysfunction. He makes eye contact with no problem, uses his imagination to tell me creative stories and is at least somewhat social. He’s always responded to his name, smiled when you smile at him… Fuck, he doesn’t even toe walk…
What he does do is line up his toys, stack them up, organize, reorganize..He is sensory seeking, rolling and bouncing and rocking and hitting himself into and onto my body, the couch, the walls. He’s eaten the same thing for dinner for the past year and half or so. He went though a period where we had to be very careful in what textures he ate, how fast he ate, if he chewed well enough… Or he would gag and vomit. He runs and hand flaps whilst pooping. He hand flaps and makes other happy gestures when he’s excited. He “puts water in nose, eyes, ears”… Finger to mouth, finger to nose. Finger to mouth, finger to eye. Finger to mouth, finger to ear. Over and over.
The most telling sign of all, I’m my opinion, is his extreme demand avoidance. His equalizing behavior when stressed out. How contrary he can be…
Despite all of these things, most people (even autism “experts”) see him as neurotypical…. Listen to how well he speaks, oh and he’s so sweet and creative and social and and and…
I am fairly certain that I am undiagnosed autistic. I went under the radar my whole life and the consequences have been dire. I’m not willing to let that happen to me child.
Finding appropriate and affordable help should not be so damn difficult.