Shortly after my son was born earlier this year, my husband and I began gearing ourselves up for a potentially awkward talk with loved ones. Parents, siblings, and friends had come to meet our first baby, and naturally, they took a lot of photos. And while we knew they were eager to boast about their new grandson, nephew, or cousin, we had decided that we didn’t want his face on social media.
Admittedly, it’s been challenging at times — both for us, and for our loved ones. Still, we’re confident that the benefits outweigh any drawbacks.
It mostly comes down to consent, but there are other considerations, too
We think our son should have a say in his digital footprint, and at this stage of his life, we aren’t able to ask him whether he’s OK with having an online presence. Until he can let us know how he feels about having private moments shared on social media, we don’t feel comfortable making that choice for him. We’ll revisit the idea of posting pictures of him once he’s able to verbally consent to it.
In her book Sharenthood: Why We Should Think Before We Talk About Our Kids Online, Leah A. Plunkett — a Harvard Law School faculty member who specializes in technology law, digital privacy, and children and family law — detailed how posting photos of your kids online puts them at risk of identity theft, bullying, and harassment. It also begins to build a narrative about them, which detracts from their ability to tell their own story.
Photo credit: Johanna Beltre
Ultimately, we found a compromise, but sometimes there are slip-ups
It felt unrealistic to expect that everyone in our son’s life would refrain from posting any photos that he’s included in. After all, my husband has a very large family — which means a lot of group get-togethers where numerous photos are taken. We didn’t want people to feel that they couldn’t share a joyful life moment just because our son happened to be in the picture.
So, we decided to only avoid posting photos where his face — or anything else that could identify him — is visible. (That means we mostly share photos where his back is turned to the camera, or we make sure an emoji has been layered over his face.)
However, there are occasional slip-ups. After a family apple-picking excursion, one family member accidentally uploaded a group photo with our son’s face in it to Instagram. We didn’t stress too much about it or reprimand our loved one immediately in front of the group — after all, we knew they didn’t mean any harm. We just followed up with them privately to gently remind them of our policy.
They felt bad, and took the picture down. These slip-ups have happened a few times since my son was born four months ago, and I’m sure they will continue to happen in the coming years. We can’t expect every single person in our lives to remember our rule every time they want to post.
We don’t judge other people for sharing their children on social media
To be clear, we don’t fault or criticize anyone else who does post photos of their kids online. It’s only natural to have the urge to share that adorable picture of your little one learning something new or hitting a milestone. Believe me, I get it.
In fact, I’m not immune to those urges. When we did a professional photo shoot in our home a few weeks after our son was born, I felt pangs of regret that I couldn’t share certain pictures online, too.
When I do feel the impulse to share recent photos and videos of my son, I turn to our family and friend group texts instead of social media. Those are the people who are most excited to stay up to date on his life, anyway. Plus, we love getting their reactions over text.
Whenever I doubt my decision, I put myself in my son’s shoes.
To be honest, I don’t know how I would feel if I grew up and discovered there were hundreds of photos and videos from my childhood on the internet. What if I was embarrassed by something my mom or dad shared? Fortunately, my parents never had to make that decision, because these apps didn’t exist during my childhood.
Any time I start to wonder if my husband and I are making the right choice — say, when a family member seems disappointed that they can’t post a cute selfie with our son — I think about how our little guy might feel 10, 15, or 20 years from now. Is he likely to be upset that we didn’t share more, or relieved and grateful? I feel confident it’s the latter, but only time will tell.
