PDA: Understanding the Reaction Without Removing Every Demand

There is a side of PDA that I don't think we talk about enough. We talk a lot about reducing demands, changing our language, giving choices and understanding why a child may say no. All of that can be important, particularly when somebody is already overwhelmed.

But what happens if we stop there?

Our children will eventually become adults, and the world cannot remove every demand for them. I think part of supporting somebody with PDA has to be helping them understand their own reactions and gradually develop the skills to manage situations where choice and control aren't always possible.

A piece of salmon taught me a lot about PDA

Years ago, one of my children came home from school completely exhausted. School took a lot out of her. Social interaction and communication were difficult, and by the time she came through the front door she often had very little capacity left. She didn't want conversation; she needed to get upstairs, be alone and recover from the day.

One afternoon she came home, hung up her coat and I said hello. I then casually told her I'd got salmon for her dinner.

Her response was immediate: “No, I don't want it.”

My first thought was, Oh no, what am I going to cook now? Then something clicked. Salmon was one of her favourite foods. Why was she suddenly refusing something I knew she loved?

I realised that the salmon wasn't really the problem.

She had arrived home socially and mentally exhausted, with very little tolerance left. I was talking to her when she didn't have the capacity for conversation, and then I'd told her what she was having for dinner. I hadn't intended it as a demand, I actually thought I was telling her something nice, but the decision had already been made for her.

Her immediate response was no.

This is where the arguments can start

If I hadn't understood what was happening, I could easily have responded with, “But you love salmon,” or “Well, I'm not cooking something else.” She may then have defended her no, I would have become frustrated, she would have become more frustrated, and suddenly we'd have been arguing about a meal she actually liked.

Instead, I left her alone. She went upstairs and had time to decompress. I didn't keep asking questions, try to persuade her or turn the salmon into a battle.

About an hour later, I simply told her dinner was ready. She came downstairs, ate the salmon and told me it was beautiful.

That was the important part. She did want the salmon.

Her immediate reaction wasn't necessarily telling me what she genuinely wanted. It was telling me what she could tolerate at that moment.

Without understanding PDA, that behaviour could easily be interpreted as rudeness, awkwardness or deliberate defiance. And she could have missed out on something she actually enjoyed simply because she felt she had to stick with that first no.

Understanding PDA doesn't mean removing every demand

This is where I think we need to be careful.

If the message becomes “I have PDA, therefore everyone else must remove every demand from my life,” I don't believe we are preparing children for adulthood.

Of course there are unnecessary demands we can remove. We can change how we communicate, offer genuine choices and recognise when somebody is so overwhelmed that increasing pressure will achieve nothing. That is exactly what I did that afternoon.

But life will still contain demands.

An appointment will change. A train will be cancelled. A manager will need something completed. Someone else will make a decision you don't like. Plans will suddenly change. Your own children may need you when you're exhausted. Sometimes something simply has to be done.

We cannot remove all of those situations, so understanding PDA cannot only be about teaching everybody around the person to change.

The person with PDA needs the light-bulb moment too

As children get older, I think psychoeducation becomes incredibly important. They need opportunities to recognise their own patterns and begin asking themselves, Do I genuinely not want this, or am I reacting because somebody else has made the decision?

Those are not always the same thing.

That awareness can create a small gap between the immediate emotional response and what happens next. The person might still feel the resistance, but eventually they may be able to recognise it: I've immediately said no. Why? Do I actually not want this? Do I need some time? Am I exhausted? Or am I reacting because I feel I've lost control of the decision?

These are skills that take time to develop. They won't appear because somebody tells a child to “just get on with it”, and forcing somebody through distress isn't what I'm suggesting.

But if we never help a young person recognise what is happening, there is another risk. They can go through life missing opportunities, damaging relationships or fighting against things they actually wanted because the immediate emotional response keeps making the decision for them.

Understanding and developing

I don't think the answer sits at either extreme.

It isn't about forcing a child to comply with every demand, and it isn't about removing every demand so they never experience that uncomfortable feeling.

It's about understanding what is happening, reducing unnecessary pressure, offering autonomy where it is genuinely possible and recognising when somebody needs time to recover. Alongside that, we can gradually help the person develop the self-awareness and flexibility they will need when life cannot offer them a choice.

Because ultimately, it isn't enough for everyone around a neurodivergent person to understand how their brain works.

We need to help neurodivergent people understand their own brains too.

Sometimes that understanding might begin with something as ordinary as realising that, actually, you did want the salmon.