Demand avoidance starts long before the meltdown
Demand avoidance is one of the things that shows up most in therapy — and most in what parents are living at home. Before we get into strategies, I want to do something that might feel counterintuitive: zoom way out.
I've been thinking about PDA — Pervasive or Pathological Demand Avoidance — on a macro level. Not just kids and families, but us as humans, and what we're demanding of the environment. The environment's lack of capacity to meet those demands. If it's happening at that scale, we can't pretend it's separate from the way we think and act as people.
If we're doing it as a species, we're doing it in our societies. If we're doing it in our societies, we're doing it in our families. And if we're doing it in our families, we're doing it with our kids — in schools, at home, at the dinner table.
That macro view has to be our starting ground. It gives us a bigger perspective, rather than jumping straight to "why is my kid so difficult?" That's not where the understanding lives.
When transactions become the whole relationship
Before we even get to strategies, we need to look honestly at what demand avoidance does to a relationship. When it becomes pervasive — when it's the whole texture of the relationship between a parent and a child — it starts to mimic something that isn't healthy for either person.
It becomes transactional. If you do this, you can have that. And in the early stages, that's pretty common. Bargaining is a natural response when you're desperate to get your child to cooperate.
But when transactions are all the relationship consists of, something gets lost. The genuine connection disappears. There's no love flowing either way. The parent is burnt out. The child feels it. Despair sets in on both sides, and it becomes a vicious cycle that's very hard to break from the inside.
How a relationship becomes a loop
"When transactions are all the relationship consists of, something gets lost. The genuine connection disappears — and that's when it becomes very hard to break from the inside."
— Nisha Bal, Seeds Occupational Therapy, West Footscray MelbourneStop feeding the fire
When this dynamic exists between a parent and child, the responsibility — unfortunately — sits more with the parent. Not because it's fair, but because we're the ones with the capacity to change it first.
The very first thing is de-escalation. Before we get to root causes or any deeper work, we have to stop feeding the fire. Like a literal fire — if we just stop adding fuel, it doesn't keep growing.
The most consistently useful tool I've found for this is scripting. Having a clear, pre-prepared script for the moments that usually spark conflict. Getting them out of bed. Brushing teeth. Transitioning between activities. Having a script for all of it.
What a script does is remove your own spontaneous reaction from the equation — because right now, your spontaneous reaction carries the weight of every previous battle. It has baggage. The script sidesteps that. It's not personal. It's just the next thing.
What feeds the fire — and what creates a firebreak
Working out the right script takes time. You'll refine it. But when it starts making a dent — and it will — that's when the next step becomes important.
Celebrate the dents — don't skip past them
Parents do this thing where they experience a small win and immediately push further. I see it all the time, and I completely understand why — these wins are such a relief. But you really don't want to do that.
Say your child agrees to try a new food. That's the win. The script worked. They said "okay, I'll try." You go get the food, bring it back, and they say "actually, I changed my mind."
That is not a loss.
The win was the willingness. The initial openness. "I'm glad you were willing to give it a go" — and you mean it. That's the whole step. You don't push past it. You celebrate it, and you let it be enough for now. You're already changing the dynamic. Don't skip past that.
"The win was the willingness. That's already impacting the child — you're making progress. Don't skip past it."
— Nisha Bal, Seeds Occupational Therapy, West Footscray MelbourneYour zone is part of the equation
The next piece is about you. I was in a difficult moment with my own child recently, and I caught myself thinking about the Zones of Regulation — and realised I was very much in the Red Zone.
Red Zone means: do not engage. That has to be a hard rule for yourself. I am not in the headspace to engage well right now. If you have the capacity to physically get some space — leave the room, go outside, take a walk — do that. If you can't, then at minimum, communicate it: "I'm not in a good place to talk about this right now."
If you're dealing with a very young child — a baby or a toddler — you can't say that to them. But you can still recognise it in yourself. At that age, distraction is a fair and legitimate tool. Distract them, or distract yourself, just enough to get the space you need. But that space has to be used — not to switch off, but to actually work through what's happening inside you. To find your way from Red back to Yellow or Green.
Where are you right now? — Zones of Regulation for parents
The clarity of how to engage doesn't come from planning it ahead of time. It has to come fresh, from that settled space. That's the only way it actually works.
The practice: watching the loop without feeding it
So what does this look like in practice? First: recognise that you're in the Red Zone. Second: create enough space that you're not actively feeding your own fire — the internal narrative, the frustration, the story about your child that makes everything harder.
And then — keep watching. You'll find some space, get pulled back into the narrative, find some space again, get pulled back in. That movement — that capacity to keep returning to the space, to keep not-feeding the fire — that is the practice.
It looks different for everyone. But the willingness to stay in the process is the thing. Sometimes it simply becomes: I'm calm enough to speak to my child now. I'm not invested in the battle anymore. Empathy starts to develop. You understand where they're coming from. You can actually sit down and listen.
From there, you read the room. Either your child isn't ready yet — and you wait, and you watch. Or you see a small window.
Co-regulation and the lifeboat
Once you've found your space, two things can happen — and understanding which one you're in changes everything about what you do next.
Once you're settled — reading the room
- Sitting nearby without speaking
- Staying slow and soft in your body
- No agenda. No questions. No rush.
- Your regulated nervous system does the work
- Sitting quietly on the floor together
- A hug, offered not demanded
- "Let's go for a walk" — no agenda
- A moment of warmth with no strings attached
This is where Polyvagal Theory becomes useful to understand. The lifeboat is a signal to the nervous system: here I am. You're safe. And that connection doesn't have to be a big conversation. The connection itself is the point — not the words.