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Hi Abby,
Picture this: you’ve just sat your teenager down for a Very Serious Talk™. Maybe it’s about sneaking the car out at midnight, or running up a data bill that could fund a small country. You’re calm. You’re collected. You’re channelling every “Parenting 101” tip you’ve ever read.
And then — BAM.
Your teenager suddenly explodes into a shouting match about how you’re the worst parent in the world, hurls a few choice swear words, and storms off like they’re starring in the dramatic finale of a reality show. Or maybe they burst into loud sobs, declare that you “just don’t get it,” and slam the door for emphasis.
Welcome to the explosive and infuriating world of Secondary Behaviour — the teenage equivalent of a well-timed smoke bomb.
One of the biggest traps parents fall into (and let’s be honest, we’ve all been there) is racing after that smoke bomb like an emotional firefighter. You’re mid-consequence or trying to talk through something serious, and suddenly… you’re off, chasing the secondary behaviour instead.
Instead of sticking to, “Hey, it’s not okay to disappear in the family car without telling anyone,” you’re locked in a screaming contest about tone, language, and how many decibels are acceptable in a civilised household.
Meanwhile, the original issue slinks quietly out the back door. And before long, you’re ready to throw your hands in the air and accept that your teen might as well marry the Wi-Fi router and move to a commune.
Secondary behaviour is the things teens do to derail, distract, or provoke a reaction. It’s the yelling, swearing, slamming doors, dramatic crying, stomping off, rolling eyes in theatrical fashion, or tossing personal insults purely to push your buttons in response to your attempt to call them to account.
Why do they do it?
Because it works.
Teens whip out secondary behaviour when they’re feeling cornered, embarrassed, overwhelmed, or desperate to get the heat off themselves. It’s like emotional judo: they fling a meltdown your way and — poof! — you’re suddenly off balance, forgetting why you even started the conversation.
And let’s be fair: it’s impressively effective.
Because you care. You don’t want your kid sobbing, swearing, or slamming doors so hard the windows rattle. So you take the bait. And before you know it, you’re issuing consequences for shouting, for door slamming, for rolling their eyes—like a grumpy parking inspector writing tickets for every minor offence—except none of it has anything to do with the reason you sat down to talk in the first place.
Here’s the strategy: Don’t. Take. The. Bait.
I know — Easier said than done when your teenager’s jabbing at your buttons like a toddler in an elevator, keen to see what chaos unfolds.  But the more you engage with secondary behaviour in that moment, the further you drift from the real issue.
Instead, stay laser-focused on your original point. Calmly. Repeatedly if needed.
Picture it like this:
Teen (slamming door, yelling): “THIS IS BULLS***! YOU’RE SUCH A JERK (or even less polite insult)” You (steady voice): “If you think this is unfair, I’m happy to talk about it — but not when you’re speaking to me like that.”
Boom. Conversation steered back on track.
Does that mean you ignore secondary behaviour forever? Absolutely not. Sometimes the meltdown, language, or door slam is big enough that it needs addressing. But the golden rule is always deal with it later.
Not in the middle of the current argument. Not while your teen’s mid–mid-escalation and trying to take you with them. Circle back once everyone’s cooled off. Keep it short, calm, and matter-of-fact. Something like:
“Hey, the other night you screamed and slammed your door. I get that you were upset. But that’s not how we handle things around here. It’s okay to be upset, but it’s not okay to …(do whatever they did you aren’t happy about.)"
Quick. Clear. Done.
Secondary behaviour loses a lot of power once your teen realises you’re not going to chase it around like a cat after a laser pointer.
So next time your teen tries to throw you off track with shouting, tears, or a dramatic exit, keep your eye on the real issue.
Because nothing fuels a teenager’s escape act like knowing they can press your buttons and make you forget why you started the conversation in the first place.
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