Let’s talk about something that doesn’t make sense to people who haven’t lived it—how the simple act of being asked to do something, even nicely, can make my brain shut down and dig in. It’s called demand avoidance, and it’s real, frustrating, and often misunderstood by nearly everyone (including me).

Before anything else, let me be clear—sharing all this isn’t me asking for special treatment. I don’t see this as a disorder. I see it as being wired differently, in a world where the “normals,” the organizers, the structure people—the ones who wrote the rulebooks—have decided what counts as acceptable. But while they were writing the rules, people like me were out here dreaming, creating, building, and making things happen. That’s not a deficit—it’s a different way of moving through the world, and the world needs both.

The Shoes Story

Here’s a random (but perfect) example: I walked into our living room and saw my slides on my wife’s feet. I’d been looking all over for them, so I just said—“Oh, I’ve been looking everywhere for those.” Since she knows I misplace literally everything… normally, she’d just shuffle them off and hand them over. But this time, with my son’s fiancée sitting nearby on the sofa—someone we’re still getting to know as family before they marry in a couple months—my wife teased me and said, “Say please.”

For some reason, that hit me sideways. My brain just shut down—I couldn’t say “please.” Not because I was annoyed or being rude. I just couldn’t do it. My wife didn’t mean anything by it—she was teasing, and she would never intentionally make me feel like a child—but the second she put it in those terms, it felt like I was being treated like a little kid. And every part of me quietly (but stubbornly) refused.

What I didn’t realize in that moment was how the social audience amplified everything. It wasn’t just about autonomy or that feeling of being treated like a child—it was about feeling that way in front of someone new to the family. The moment felt higher stakes, more embarrassing, more about my dignity in front of someone I wanted to make a good impression on. With that audience, I now realize, it felt like I was being scolded, even though I knew logically that wasn’t her intent. She kept it going for a while, not realizing my shutdown, and wouldn’t give them up unless I said please. I turned and left.

Ten minutes later, I could say “please” about something else, no hesitation. But that moment? I was frozen. When I said please later, she looked at me and said, “Why couldn’t you say please earlier about the shoes…?” I told her, I really don’t know, but trying to analyze it now… for some reason I think I felt like I was being treated like a child, and I resented that, and I just didn’t recognize it in the moment. I would have happily said it if I was asking—but simply stating “oh, there they are” and then the unexpected request to “say please,” especially with an audience, just sidelined me. This event put me on the path to find out why.

This Isn’t Just Me

Turns out, this has a name: pathological demand avoidance (PDA), and research shows it’s not just a quirk—it’s a real thing seen in up to 70% of adults with ADHD. Recent studies even suggest that ADHD may be a stronger predictor of demand avoidance than autism, with overlapping traits like executive dysfunction and anxiety around loss of control making the response even more intense.

Research also shows that social context can intensify PDA responses—having a witness or audience, especially someone new, can amplify the freeze response by adding a layer of social performance pressure and the fear of appearing defiant or immature in front of them. That’s exactly what happened in my living room that day.

For people like me, the more someone asks, reminds, or “nags” (no matter how kindly), the more impossible the task seems—even if it’s something I want or planned to do. Scientists say it’s not defiance, laziness, or disrespect; it’s the nervous system seeing pressure as a threat, triggering a mental freeze. Autonomy—being left to get things done my own way—matters more to my brain than almost anything else.

Real Life: How It Shows Up

1. At church, I might be praying out loud, fully engaged, until someone (even my dad, the pastor) says, “let’s all pray out loud.” Instantly, I have to fight the urge to stop completely. Sometimes I literally have to plug my ears just to stay in my own zone and keep praying… to avoid the strange uprising in me that feels like a bad attitude. What is crazy… I was literally doing what he asked right before he asked, so it shouldn’t bother me at all. And to be clear, I have no problem with how my dad leads prayer or the service. He has every right and calling to direct us in worship. My frustration is entirely with this irrational response that rises up in me—not with him.

Research shows that even internal demands—things I’ve already decided to do—can trigger avoidance when someone else verbalizes or formalizes them. The moment autonomy feels threatened, even if I was already doing the thing, my nervous system kicks into protection mode.

2. With my mom and church projects, I may be completely planning on working on a project for our church, but just the text or phone call from her asking if she can help me do it causes me to shut down, panic, avoid the responsibility, and have anxiety just responding… so many times I ignore the text. And here’s what makes it even crazier—she’s genuinely, honestly trying to help. I know that. But something in me just locks up the moment she reaches out. This drives her crazy… and it drives me crazier. I don’t disrespect her, I intend to do the task, I just need it to happen when I plan it. The second someone else puts a voice to it—even someone offering support—my autonomy feels threatened.

Research shows that even offers of help and support can trigger PDA avoidance, especially when they feel like they’re formalizing or pressuring you into a timeline. The nervous system perceives it as external control, not as the gift it actually is.

3. Change imposed on me: I love change… if I’m the one changing it. If you change something on me, I feel an inner panic attack that I have to fight down. Your change might be just as legitimate as the one I bring, but I get extreme anxiety when you change things on me.

Research confirms that imposed change is a major PDA trigger—it threatens autonomy and control, even when the change itself is reasonable.

4. Unverbalized expectations: When I “feel” someone is expecting something from me that we have not discussed, and I have not agreed to—I resent it, feel something akin to anger, and really have to work on not having a bad attitude.

Studies show that implicit demands (unspoken expectations, assumptions, body language) are just as triggering as explicit requests for people with PDA.

5. Decisions made without my input: There have been times, whether at work, church, or in volunteer settings, where decisions are made on a project I’m supposed to be leading, but I’m not consulted—or worse, decisions I’ve made are reversed without asking me. Even if it isn’t a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, I shut down. I feel this wave of anger and start to wonder why I was even put in that role to begin with. It can make me feel shoved aside or like my thoughts don’t matter. I hate that feeling. And here’s what people don’t always realize: this resentment doesn’t just disappear once the moment passes. I can feel it lingering for weeks, even when I recognize it’s not entirely logical. It’s strong enough that people close to me have noticed the shift in me. When it happens, I usually go quiet and just focus on doing my part, because I’d rather keep the peace than stir up controversy—but that sense of being out of control still lingers underneath, and I really struggle with it.

This is a loss of autonomy response, which research identifies as the core trigger for PDA—when control is taken away, the nervous system perceives it as a threat. And unlike some emotional reactions that fade quickly, PDA-driven resentment can stick around for a long time.

6. At work, I make a horrible employee. I do not like being told what to do, even though I know it’s their right to tell me. So I own my own businesses and set my own course. But then I stall out when I’m told by government agencies to file certain forms, pay certain taxes and license fees. I know it needs to be done, but it irritates me and I cannot do it. I have to hire admin assistants to get these types of things done in my business.

7. With employees, if I’m about to give someone a raise but they ask me at the wrong moment, it makes me no longer want to. I fight this and give the raises as needed, but the fact they asked makes me not want to. If I get a new employee that hasn’t learned our way of doing things yet and wants to only make constant suggestions on how we can change things before they ever learn, I literally will not do it just because it irritates me that they’re suggesting before learning.

8. With family, My sister worked for me for 20 years. Her asking me to complete tasks and do things irritated me. When she would ask me daily to do the thing… I might put it off for a week or two just because I shut down and could not do it at all just because I was asked.


This drives me crazy about myself. It’s not logical, it’s not reasonable, and it’s definitely not intentional.

Research shows that persistent or repetitive requests and reminders from loved ones—even when well-intended—can heighten demand avoidance in people with PDA, leading to procrastination, withdrawal, and resistance even to tasks they are fully capable of and have done many times before. This isn’t about the task itself, or the person asking—it’s the demand itself that triggers the anxiety and the shutdown.

Why Science Says It Happens

Studies show this “freeze” isn’t imaginary; ADHD brains have a nervous system that’s hyper-sensitive to perceived loss of control or authority over what, how, and when things happen. Even “small” requests can set off a cascade of stress chemicals, making the brain want to shut down, run away, or refuse.

Scientists describe this as a fight-flight-freeze response driven by anxiety, not defiance. My brain isn’t being difficult—it’s protecting what it perceives as my need for control and safety. The avoidance itself often brings relief in the short term, which trains the brain to repeat the avoidant behavior. Toss in our tendency toward low dopamine (the motivation/reward hormone) and you’ve got a recipe for sometimes feeling absolutely paralyzed by expectation instead of motivated by it.

PDA is often misdiagnosed as oppositional behavior or a bad attitude, but research shows it’s actually anxiety manifesting as a desperate need to maintain autonomy. The key difference: it’s not about anger or rebellion—it’s about survival.

What It Feels Like… And Why Time and Space Matter

All this isn’t an excuse, but it’s a reality. When it hits, sometimes I just need space: time to reset, or permission to do things on my rhythm. Trying to rationalize my way through (“It’s not about you, it’s about me wanting control of how I do things”) isn’t always enough in the moment.

At church, I have to remind myself that no one is singling me out—it’s about God, not my feelings. Sometimes I can push through, sometimes I just go quiet. I think that’s okay with God as he knows the brain he gave me, but I fear those around me may not understand. After the shoes incident with my wife, I explained how I felt, and she understood. Every time I can name it out loud, I think it helps us both.  The more we discuss, the more she recognizes and many times is learning the moves, the touches, the words, the actions to pull me out of the spiral.

Why I’m Sharing This

If you’re reading this and you relate, know that you’re not alone and you’re not defective. If you don’t relate, but love someone who does this, know it’s not a personal slight or sign of disrespect. It’s just the way some brains are wired—a survival system kicking in where it’s not needed.

With a little understanding, patience, and room to breathe, people like me (and you) can still show up, get stuff done, and even say “please”—on our own terms.


2 responses to “When Even “Please” Feels Like Pressure: Demand Avoidance & My ADHD Brain”

  1. First, I want to say that I enjoy reading your take on ADHD and the research you have done on the subject. It helps me understand some of the thoughts in my own brain as well as those I love.

    My daughter was diagnosed with ODD and ADHD as a child. I never thought ODD was the case but I’m not a doctor. He (the doctor) should know better than me, right? No, not always. Sometimes something as simple as “tell your sister you are sorry” turned into something so much more. I know now that she was not just being defiant and she was actually sorry for what she did but she just couldn’t say it. She got grounded and was in trouble a lot for things she just couldn’t do. She was capable but her brain would not let her. Sometimes with tasks, she would express that. I heard her and believed her but what was I supposed to do with that? As a parent telling your child to do something and it not happening seems like a clear case of defiance. You get frustrated, yell, or discipline. That’s what we are supposed to do as parents right? Not always. Some kids are wired differently.

    I feel like all the things we tried, all the discipline just gave her a complex. She saw herself as bad, damaged, or worse….not worthy of love. When I would extend more grace my husband would accuse me of being soft and not teaching her right from wrong. Telling me it was my fault she acted the way she did, that I was making the situation worse in the long run. As she got older I put her in counseling which only reinforced her feelings of something being “wrong” with her. I was trying to help but was failing miserably. Or at least I felt like I was.

    You mentioned your wife learning the words, touches, excetra to pull you out of your spiral. Can you elaborate on that? Are there things I could have done or can do now to help her as an adult? I know what works for you may not help everyone but a little insight may help.

    Thank you for sharing your experiences and being so transparent

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    1. Thank you for this. Your daughter’s story really resonates with me. When my children were younger, I wish I had known I had ADHD—and that they almost certainly do as well. One of my sons had similar experiences, and I learned that trying to force him to do things wasn’t the answer. Each of my kids had to be approached differently. My oldest responded well to discipline, but this one didn’t. I’ve only recently, during all this research, realized why he frustrated me so much.

      To answer your question about what helped me and my wife—it started with me doing the research, recognizing what was happening, and then being brave enough to tell her. “This is what I think is going on in my head.” Once she understood the why, everything changed.

      As for what she does now, it’s mostly small, quiet things when she recognizes a spiral has been triggered: a light touch on my hand or arm with no words, just presence. Sitting beside me in silence—not trying to fix it or make me process anything, just there. Handing me my fidget tool without saying anything. She just sees and knows. Sometimes she’ll simply ask, “Are you spiraling?” And that acknowledgment—that she sees it but isn’t trying to push me through it—is huge.

      The key difference between what didn’t work and what does is this: the things that work don’t add pressure. They offer understanding and companionship instead of solutions. She’s not trying to pull me out of the spiral—she’s walking through it with me. Many times, her recognizing it early and being gentle catches me before I go too deep, and I can pull myself out. When she listens, tries to understand, doesn’t push me to change… that brings a safe feeling. I know she’s there whether I snap out of it early or end up with the covers over my head.

      For your daughter, maybe it’s just talking to her about what she needs in those moments. People like us just need to know someone’s in our corner—not judging, not trying to fix us.

      Thanks for reading and for caring enough to figure this out for your kid.

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