When a child refuses something as simple as putting on shoes, it is easy to read the behavior as defiance. But for kids who fall into the PDA profile, that refusal often has little to do with willfulness and everything to do with a nervous system registering a threat.
“It’s really identifying that this is a nervous system response to a perceived threat,” says Stacey Curnow, LCMHC, founder of Asheville Family Counseling. PDA, short for pathological demand avoidance, was first identified in the 1980s by a researcher studying autistic children in England. It’s not a formal diagnosis. It does not appear in the DSM or its British equivalent. But in the years since the term crossed the Atlantic, it has become a widely used, and increasingly compassionate lens for understanding certain children’s behavior.
Many have reframed the acronym entirely. Instead of pathological demand avoidance, they call it a persistent desire for autonomy. “All human beings have a strong desire, a need, it’s a basic human need for autonomy,” Curnow explains. When that need feels threatened, even unintentionally, the nervous system responds the way it would to any threat: fight, flight, freeze, or collapse.
That reframe changes the entire approach. Rather than starting with a checklist of behaviors, Curnow encourages parents to get curious about what is making a particular request feel unsafe. Asking a child “what’s making this hard for you” is a markedly different question than insisting they simply comply.
The shift requires a kind of double compassion, says Curnow, who is trained in attachment theory and the collaborative and proactive solutions model developed by psychologist Dr. Ross Greene. Parents need that compassion too. “Our nervous systems are always talking to each other,” she says. When a child melts down, the adult’s nervous system often follows close behind.
Curnow’s clinical approach borrows from Greene’s model directly: lead with empathy, then share the adult’s own concern, then problem-solve together, and do it outside the heat of the moment. In-the-moment meltdowns, she says, are rarely solvable in the moment itself. The better strategy is to note what happened and circle back later, in a calmer window, to ask what actually felt hard.
What looks like “I won’t,” she says, is far more often “I can’t.” Kids who appear uninterested in cooperating are frequently kids who care intensely about fairness and about the people around them, once they understand how their actions land. They are, in Curnow’s words, often deeply motivated once a problem stops feeling unfair and starts feeling shared.
The proactive work is not effortless. It takes time most parents feel they do not have. But Curnow argues the alternative — managing repeated blowups — costs more in the end. Either spend the energy upfront on connection and problem-solving, or spend it later managing the explosion. As she puts it, borrowing a phrase from Greene: choose your hard.