Serial Killers and Soulmates: A PDA Guide to Not Dying of Social Exhaustion.

Welcome to the jungle, folks. And by jungle, I don’t mean a lush, tropical paradise. I mean the high-stakes, demand-avoidant, neurodivergent landscape of teenage romance.

If you’ve been following my journey, you know I’ve spent two decades in education and a lifetime learning about Autism and Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA). But nothing—and I mean nothing—prepares you for the moment your PDAer decides to swap true crime documentaries for a "real-life" girlfriend.

From Ted Bundy to Bae

Let’s be real: while the rest of the world sees "Love on the Spectrum" (and I LOVE that show) and expects my child to be obsessed with steam trains or Disney princesses, Olivia has been busy memorizing the finer details of the Golden State Killer. The grislier, the better.

Honestly, I wasn't too worried about the online "boyfriends" in far-off lands. Discord was our safe haven. I’d have a quick "I will find you" chat with Sam (our lovely international suitor), inform him that I’d be doing more "pop-ins" than a hotel cleaner on a mission, and we were golden.

For Olivia, these relationships were peak efficiency. Why ask about Sam’s family or school? It wasn’t relevant to the game or the chat, so why clutter the brain? If only we could all be that pragmatic.

The Boundary Revolution

Watching Olivia navigate three real-life friends has been a masterclass in radical honesty. We’ve been working on the "capacity" talk—knowing when the social battery is in the red. But recently, things got sticky. One of Liv’s friends (also on the spectrum) needed constant, looping reassurance.Watching Liv spiral into emotional burnout was like watching a slow-motion car crash. When I suggested a boundary, Liv looked at me like I’d asked them to solve cold fusion.

The Conversation:

Me: How many times a day can you reassure him before you want to launch him into space?Liv: Once. Otherwise, it’s overwhelming.Me: There’s your boundary. Remember when I told you I love your hugs, but I can’t do 600 a day, especially when I’m mid-tooth-brushing?The lightbulb didn't just go off; it practically blinded us. Now, the friend is adjusting, Liv is firm, and I’m sitting here wondering why I spent my teens playing "does he like me? " Games when I could have just issued a daily cap on emotional labour.

The "In the Flesh" Era

Enter the Girlfriend. A real, local, breathing human.For many PDAers, the intersection of gender and sensory input is... complicated. Demand avoidance isn't just about refusing to empty the dishwasher; it’s about the autonomy of the body.
Many PDA individuals find the "demands" of traditional gender roles or the sensory intrusion of physical contact to be a bridge too far. For some, the very idea of a "partner" carries a weight of expectation that feels like an invisible leash.Liv’s approach to physical intimacy? "I can’t hold hands; it makes my palms sweaty. So I’ll just tell her."
I spent my teenage years agonizing over how to "gracefully" avoid manoeuvres that I was not yet prepared for. Liv just treats it like a software update.Feature: Holding Hands. Status: Disabled due to moisture. How wonderfully uncomplicated.

The Tether to the Earth

But the "Mother of the Year" award truly peaked last week. Liv has palilalia, and their "loop" phrase is often a dramatic "I want to die." In a moment that would make a Nicholas Sparks novel look like a technical manual, after loudly declaring that they wanted to die, the girlfriend replied, with total sincerity: "You can't die. I am now the thing that tethers you to this earth."I nearly dropped my coffee... OK, it was alcohol. I have three children.

I recently dug up an old infographic I’d made for Liv a while ago, back when I thought I’d need to draw a literal map to help them navigate a "crush." It turns out, between the true crime, the rigid boundaries, and the accidental poetry, they’ve found their way just fine. I’ll take some credit for the teaching, but a lot goes to Olivia for being the most terrifyingly honest romantic I’ve ever met.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go do a "pop-in." Just to make sure no one is holding hands.