“Isn’t PDA Just Bad Behavior?” A Low Demand Reframe

 I remember once standing in the church nursery, watching my child crumple into tears at the suggestion that they join the other kids for circle time. The volunteer gave me a look. You know the look. The one that says, “If you were a little stricter, this wouldn’t be happening.”

It’s the same look I’ve gotten at playgrounds, schools, family dinners, even doctor’s offices. The assumption behind it is always the same: my child’s struggles must be the result of poor discipline. A lack of consistency. A failure of boundaries. In other words — “bad behavior.”

If you’re raising a child with Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA), I bet you’ve felt those eyes on you too. And maybe, like me, you’ve felt the sting of shame, the whisper in your head: What if they’re right?

Let me tell you something important: they’re not.

Why the “bad behavior” lens fails

When we interpret PDA through the behavior lens, we only see the surface. We see the meltdown in the grocery aisle, the refusal to get dressed, the anger when asked to brush teeth. It looks like defiance. It looks like willful disobedience.

But PDA isn’t about willfulness. It’s about threat perception. For PDAers, everyday demands land in the nervous system like danger signals. Their refusal is not about controlling us — it’s about survival.

Behavioral interpretations collapse under the weight of this reality. They assume:

• The child has control and is simply choosing not to comply.
• The adult’s job is to impose consistency so the child learns to “fall in line.”
• The problem is skill-based or moral (“lazy,” “stubborn,” “manipulative”).
  
  

But none of this matches what families like ours live and breathe.

The nervous system underneath

Research on PDA and related profiles shows that demand avoidance is driven by extreme anxiety and a highly sensitive nervous system response (Newson et al., 2003; Stuart et al., 2020). In other words, what looks like “won’t” is actually “can’t.”

When my child explodes at the idea of turning off the iPad, it isn’t because they want to make my life miserable. It’s because their body registers that demand as a threat to autonomy — which, for them, is as vital as oxygen. Autonomy isn’t a luxury. It’s safety.

Dr. Ross Greene, author of The Explosive Child, has a mantra I return to often: “Kids do well if they can.” PDA makes it very clear. My kids aren’t choosing difficulty. They’re showing me, with every meltdown and refusal, exactly where their nervous system says too hard.

A different way to see it

When we drop the “bad behavior” lens, a new one comes into focus. What if:

• Refusal is communication?
• Meltdowns are a nervous system’s SOS?
• Demand avoidance is a survival strategy — not a character flaw?
  
  

This doesn’t mean we give up on growth or skill-building. But it does mean that we stop trying to “fix” our kids through punishment, rewards, or even endless consistency. Instead, we turn toward co-regulation, accommodations, and flexible creativity.

I like to call it stretching safely. We drop demands that are too heavy. We add supports that lighten the load. And sometimes, we discover that what felt impossible yesterday is just barely doable today. That’s progress — not because we controlled it, but because our kids felt safe enough to risk trying.

For the parent heart

Psychologists have long pointed out that labeling children’s struggles as “bad behavior” obscures the real work of understanding stress and capacity. Dr. Mona Delahooke, in Beyond Behaviors, argues that what we call “misbehavior” is often the body’s stress response spilling over — a child’s nervous system waving a flag that says I need help, not punishment. She reminds us that compliance-based parenting may quiet a child in the moment, but it does not foster long-term resilience or connection. For PDAers especially, who live with heightened threat sensitivity, interpreting everything through the “bad behavior” lens doesn’t just miss the point — it risks compounding trauma by teaching them that their nervous system signals are shameful or wrong.

I know what it’s like to feel accused. To sit in an IEP meeting where the room is full of sighs, head shakes, and “if only you would…”

So let me say it clearly: You are not failing. Your child is not failing. The MODEL is failing.

When people call PDA “bad behavior,” they’re missing the deeper truth. You see your child’s nervous system in action. You live the intensity of it. You know, better than anyone, that their struggles are not about being spoiled or stubborn — they are about being human. A human with a nervous system that runs hot, a brain wired differently, and a heart that longs for safety and trust.

Where we go from here

The next time someone throws the “bad behavior” line your way, take a breath. Remember: your child isn’t misbehaving; they’re protecting themselves. And you’re not a permissive parent — you’re a pioneer, learning to walk a path that most people can’t even imagine.

It’s not easy. But it’s real. And it’s worth it.

Because when we see PDA not as bad behavior but as a nervous system reality, we stop fighting our kids — and start walking alongside them.

References:

• Delahooke, M. (2019). Beyond Behaviors: Using Brain Science and Compassion to Understand and Solve Children’s Behavioral Challenges. PESI Publishing.)

Greene, R. W. (2014). The Explosive Child: A New Approach for Understanding and Parenting Easily Frustrated, Chronically Inflexible Children. Harper.