You Can See My Face, Not My Kid’s

When I was pregnant with Miles, I made the decision not to post photos of him online.

Why? Because I grew up in the wild west days of the internet. Where AIM away messages were therapy, and I was in chat rooms pretending to be a 14/f/FL when I was actually 12, talking to what was probably a 45-year-old man named Gary.

The internet is amazing, sure, but it’s also terrifying. And the idea of putting personal, vulnerable photos of my kid out there for strangers to do god knows what with? Yeah, hard pass.

Paranoid? Maybe. Protective? Absolutely.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll occasionally toss a photo of Miles up on my IG Stories. But that’s about as public as it gets. Stories disappear. Could someone screenshot them? Sure. But I trust my circle not to be little creeps.

When Miles was born, I set up a shared album on my phone and invited family and our close-knit crew to access it. Bonus: they can add their own photos, too, which means I don’t have to be the sole memory keeper of this kid’s entire life. Teamwork, baby.

Especially when he was in the NICU and family couldn’t visit, this is how we shared Miles with them. Also, it was mid-COVID. Miles was a preemie, and he didn’t really get to see family until months later.

I remember when Miles was about a month old, and I got a message from someone I used to work with asking why I hadn’t posted any photos of him. Like… okay, Jan. First of all, why are you so invested in what my baby looks like? And second, why do you care at all?

I found the message weird and ignored it. Sorry, I’m not out here uploading 500 identical baby pics into a Facebook album named “Miles 🍼” for public consumption. Not everyone needs front-row seats in my kid’s life, Jan. Mind your business.

And truthfully, I don’t want to post anything now that Miles might see later and feel embarrassed about. He deserves some privacy, some space to be a kid, until he decides if, when, and how he wants to show up online.

Plus, let’s be real… the way the world is going, I’m not even sure what the internet or the planet will look like when he’s older. But at least he won’t have to dig up 47 bathtime photos I posted in 2021.

Listen, I am not going to judge you if you post 700 photos of your child online. Do you, boo. It’s just not for me.

So, if you ever wonder why Miles doesn’t have a public highlight reel, it’s not because I’m not obsessed with him. It’s because I am, and I’m just keeping that obsession semi-private.

Instead of photos of Miles, you’re stuck with my face, my dogs, and the random things I find funny.

Miles? He’s thriving off-camera, living his best little life, tantrums and all, blissfully unaware that I’ve spared him from a lifetime of #TBTs he never asked for.

And honestly? That feels like a win.