Why I Refuse to Share My Children Online: The Case for a 90s-Inspired Childhood

People are always surprised to find out I have children, and one of the first things they point out is what's missing from my social media.

No birth announcements, no monthly milestone photos, no birthday party albums, no "funny thing my toddler said today" posts.

Definitely no names, first, middle, or otherwise, no birthdays, no faces, nothing.

Some people assume I'm being overly cautious, some think I must just be intensely private. Every once in a while someone asks if I'm embarrassed by my children or motherhood, which couldn't be further from the truth. My children (and my husband, and our pets) are the greatest joy of my life.

They're funny, brilliant, sweet, silly little people who make me smile and laugh every single day. I'm unbelievably proud to be their mother. I simply don't believe that any of those things entitle me to build a digital footprint for them before they're old enough to decide whether they want one.

My children are people. Real, breathing, people who might be too little to have strong opinions about anything outside of which episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba and Hello Kitty and Friends Super Cute Adventures are the best, they are NOT content. (The best episode being the one where the Gabba Gang goes shopping for pancake supplies and Kitty and Friends attend a curry festival, the worst being whichever features Brobee knocking over Plex and he needs to be recharged, and the one where Kuromi hosts a haunted hayride, for the record.)

Children Can't Consent To Becoming Public Figures

The conversation always, for me, starts and ends with safety. Safety absolutely matters, but I actually think we're skipping over an even bigger issue (which inevitably ties in with safety); Consent.

Children cannot give informed consent to having their lives documented online. A toddler doesn't understand what Instagram is, a six-year-old doesn't understand facial recognition technology, a ten-year-old can't possibly comprehend how artificial intelligence, archived internet posts, data brokers, or searchable digital footprints might affect them twenty years from now … adults barely understand those things, so how could a child?

Parents often say, "they're my kids” or “they said I could post this!” (gesturing to their 6 year old who still eats their own boogers and misses the toilet on occasion.) … like okay sure. They're your children, they're not your property. Those are two very different things.

Being a parent means making decisions in your child's best interest until they're capable of making informed decisions themselves. It doesn't mean permanently documenting their childhood for an audience they never asked for.

One day, my children will decide what they want their online presence to look like, IF they want to have one. I'd like them to start with a blank slate.

Childhood Doesn't Need An Audience

Growing up in the 90s wasn't perfect, far from it … but there was something incredibly freeing about having a childhood that largely disappeared into memory (or polaroids and 4×6 glossy photos) instead of living forever on the internet.

I can be deeply grateful that every awkward haircut (I had home-cut bangs until I was 13/14), every tantrum, every embarrassing moment and every difficult stage of growing up wasn't uploaded for hundreds or thousands of strangers to dissect forever.

Children deserve that same freedom today, they deserve to make mistakes and express themselves privately. They deserve to grow without wondering whether an embarrassing story from second grade is going to resurface during a job interview fifteen years later. Childhood is supposed to be temporary, fleeting, even; the internet is the literal opposite.

Family Vlogging Makes Me Deeply Uncomfortable

Actually, it pisses me off, like, to my core. I cannot stand family vloggers. Dropping the attempt at professionalism here, I genuinely fucking hate them, they disgust me. Not because I dislike families, not because I necessarily dislike parents creating content (in some circumstances), I dislike adults turning their children into employees who never agreed to the job.

Some children spend their entire lives on camera before they're old enough to understand what a camera even represents.

Their first words, first steps, meltdowns, punishments, illnesses, grief, all become content. Birthday parties, Christmases, craft days, pool parties, vacations, all become sponsored content. Some of these children generate millions of dollars before they're old enough to spell the word "contract."

Adults sign the paperwork, collect the checks, negotiate the brand deals … the children simply exist, and that’s not a life.

People often argue that family influencing is no different than child acting, I heavily disagree. (I don’t even really like child acting to be honest, but I know the world isn’t ready for that conversation.)

Child actors, while certainly not without their own industry's problems, typically operate under labor laws, contractual protections, educational requirements, and regulations surrounding working conditions. Historically, have their parents or guardians always followed that? No, of course not … but, at least those “safeguards” were in place.

Family influencing exists in a much murkier space. A bedroom becomes a set (which is a sinister concept when it comes to childhood), childhood becomes a business model, privacy becomes negotiable, I find that incredibly unsettling, sickening, and SAD.

Stop Posting Your Children's Livelihoods

It isn't just influencers, regular (non-public-figure) parents have started publicly documenting every detail imaginable. School names, teacher names, sports schedules, medical diagnoses, doctor visits, behavioral struggles, discipline, mental health struggles, report cards, exact birth dates, vacation locations, daily routines.

Sometimes parents even post videos of their children being punished because they think it's funny or educational (at its core, we all know it’s for likes and engagement.) I genuinely struggle to understand how humiliating your child in front of thousands of strangers is ever considered acceptable parenting, or even further how is it even enjoyable? No amount of likes or comments can possibly make that feel good or even okay.

Imagine your worst childhood moment, now imagine your parents uploading it for millions of people to comment on forever … that’s reality for SO MANY CHILDREN NOW. Children deserve dignity, They deserve privacy … and they deserve parents who remember that likes and shares are temporary, but digital footprints can last forever.

The Internet Isn't Just Full Of Nice People

The internet isn’t even full of good people.

This part isn't fun to talk about but it's so necessary because some people just do. not. get it.

Every time I bring up this topic online, I inevitably get responses saying “you’re sick for thinking that, just because you think that way doesn’t mean other people do” which I find so insanely wild. I could not fathom harming a child in any capacity, and my passion for protect children involves having a deep understanding that society at large doesn’t always treat kids, or the vulnerable in general, accordingly.

There are people online who actively seek out content involving children. Some are collecting information, creating fake identities, manipulating images … and many of them have far more sinister intentions, whether it’s consuming sinister content, creating it, selling it, digitally rendering it … it’s unfortunately endless.

Parents often comfort themselves by saying their accounts are “private.” Private today doesn't necessarily mean private forever. Screenshots exist and just because you know or trust someone IRL doesn’t mean they won’t screenshot and share with the wrong crowd, either innocently or otherwise. Accounts get hacked, friends share posts, platforms change ownership or have seedy terms and conditions and privacy policies without you even realizing it.

I won’t say this next point is the “most important” compared to everything I just listed, but it’s most important to recognize that artificial intelligence is capable of scraping enormous amounts of publicly available information. Those god awful ugly AI flyers you see businesses generating? Those horrible AI cartoon profile pictures people are making? Those click-bait like-farm AI images boomers can’t get enough of? All of that content can access content everywhere across the internet, including photos of your child, and it can be used to train databases to make some really horrific stuff involving children or otherwise. Remember; there is currently no regulation on generative artificial intelligence, not that it would be okay if there were, but there is absolutely no form of safeguarding protecting anybody, children or otherwise from it.

Once something enters the digital world, your ability to control it shrinks dramatically; why volunteer information that never needed to be public in the first place? Another point I see people make online is “I post my kids because you have to take them out in public anyway and creeps could take pictures of them anywhere.” Which yes, is unfortunately disgusting and true, but at least you’re doing your part to not offer your child up on a silver platter.

I'm Not Anti-Technology

Whenever I talk about this, someone inevitably assumes I must be raising my children in a cabin somewhere, churning butter and refusing to acknowledge electricity. (Which partly sounds awesome but I need my YouTube Premium and Wal-Mart Plus and CrunchyRoll Premium and I have a pretty extensive eBay watchlist … )

Anyway, that's not what's happening here, technology is incredible. The internet is one of the greatest educational tools humanity has ever created. My children will absolutely learn how to use modern technology, they'll absolutely need those skills. The difference is timing. There's no developmental emergency requiring a minor of any age to have unrestricted internet access.

My kids are growing up with plenty of technology, it just looks a little different (gestures to Nintendo DS sitting next to me on the couch.) Digital cameras instead of social media. Handheld game systems that don't connect them to strangers across the globe. Creative toys … books … art supplies … outdoor adventures (even if it’s just the backyard) … music … board games … conversations around the dinner table … ALL the community classes … boredom, occasionally, especially boredom, boredom is where imagination often lives.

Kids Are Smarter Than We Give Them Credit For

Here's something parents have known forever; kids are incredibly resourceful. If you install parental controls, many children immediately start figuring out how to bypass them … not because they're malicious, but because they're curious. That's what kids do, that’s quite literally how they learn. Technology changes, the whole world does, but curiosity doesn't.

I hear companies constantly advertising software that promises complete protection … nothing offers complete protection. No app replaces parenting, no filter replaces conversations, no software replaces sitting beside your child, watching with them, talking with them, answering questions, and teaching them how to think critically.

Remember "parental guidance?" Guidance, actual supervision … the kind that involves a parent physically and mentally present.

They'll Thank Me Later ... Or They Won't

Maybe one day my children will tell me I overdid it, maybe they'll wish I'd posted more family pictures (cue me whipping out my phone with my extra Apple Storage subscription that houses my 18k photos.) I'd much rather apologize for giving them too much privacy than apologize for taking it away before they ever had a choice. Privacy is one of those things that's incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to get back once it's gone. You can't un-post a childhood.

Raising Kids, Not Content

I understand the temptation, like trust me I do. Parents are proud, children are adorable (mine especially). Families want to share happy moments with loved ones (even if you can just text them). None of that is inherently wrong, but you have to scratch beneath the surface.

This isn't about pretending I'm the perfect parent, I'm certainly not. I won’t even pretend like I am, but I try my damnedest. This is simply one of the boundaries I've chosen to draw. I respect my children more than anything, and I owe this to them.

I want them to grow up knowing that they were never expected to perform for an audience, their home wasn't a production studio, their childhood wasn't sponsored. That the embarrassing, messy, beautiful process of growing up belonged to them and nobody else.

Maybe someday they'll choose to share parts of their lives online, maybe they won't … either way, it'll be their decision, and I think that's exactly how it should be.