Wintering the Soul as a Neurodivergent Parent of a PDA Child

Today's letter is written by Gabriele Zonnefeld, an incredible member of my Low Demand coaching team

Every year, as the light changes and the wind cools, something in my body shifts too. My joints ache a little more. My energy thins out. The autoimmune hum gets louder. While the world speeds up for the holidays, my body slows down—and as a neurodivergent parent raising a PDA child, that contrast feels sharp.

This is the season when my body won’t let me pretend I have endless capacity.
And honestly? That’s uncomfortable.
But it’s also true.

Parenting a PDA child means living in a house where nervous systems speak loudly. And when you carry your own trauma or C-PTSD, your body often reacts before your mind has time to choose a response. When my child hits panic—when fear comes out as intensity or refusal—my own system sometimes lights up too. For a long time, I thought this meant I wasn’t regulated “enough.”

Now I understand it differently:
My body remembers things I never consciously signed up for.
And this season makes those memories louder.

Instead of fighting the season, I’ve started listening to what winter itself invites: softening, shrinking, simplifying. Becoming small on purpose, the way trees do when they drop their leaves—not failing, just conserving.

That’s become my quiet practice of wintering the soul.

It looks like very small things—tiny kindnesses that fit inside a real PDA household:

Twenty-second breaths
A hand on my heart. Shoulders dropping. One slow inhale behind a closed door.

Soft boundaries
“I want to help, and I need a moment.”
“Let’s sit together instead of talking this through.”

Warmth and light
A mug in my hands. A blanket around my shoulders. Lamps instead of overhead lights.

Smaller holidays
One tradition we actually enjoy. One gathering we can manage. Simple food. Slow mornings.

Pocket-sized joy
A favorite scent. A comforting song. Three minutes of sunlight.

None of this fixes everything—but it softens something. It gives shape to a season that can feel so heavy for neurodivergent parents with PDA kids.

And here’s what I’ve learned:
My child doesn’t need me to outpace winter.
They don’t need me to be perfectly regulated or endlessly patient.
They just need me to show up human—present, imperfect, and real.

So this season, I’m letting myself be enough.
Not polished. Not superhuman.
Just enough.

Your body’s limits aren’t flaws—they’re guidance.
Your slowness is wisdom.
Your wintering is allowed—and deeply needed.

And you, in all your seasonal softness, are doing beautifully.

Gabriele
Low Demand Coach

Gabriele Zonnefeld is a late-diagnosed autistic and ADHD mother of three young autistic children, two of whom are PDAers. Her coaching approach is grounded in lived experience, deep empathy, and a passion for helping families move from burnout to balance.She specializes in supporting overwhelmed parents of young neurodivergent children, particularly those navigating complex emotional needs, sibling dynamics, and recovery from caregiver burnout.