Rant: Sharing Photos of My Kids

The other day, I read this article Inspired by Pink: All-Access Parenting and Limiting Facebook Photos, and it got under my skin. I’ve been seething on and off ever since.

I wish I could figure out why this article made me so angry. Perhaps because the author comes across to me with a control-freak (the author’s words, not mine) attitude about an issue I have fought with in the past and come to terms with. Or perhaps she has touched a nerve about something I wonder about myself. I know she doesn’t have the answer, but I’m not sure that I do either. Perhaps that’s the nerve that was touched … a slight unease with a choice I’ve made for me and my family.

First off, I think trying to make the comparison between me as a parent sharing photos of my kids and Pink being pursued by paparazzi is absolutely ludicrous. Having strangers following your every move, trying to capture the shot of you in a careless moment is an entirely different story. I would go nuts if I always had to be on my best behavior and not grimace at something or fix that wedgie. Totally different situation and not comparable. In addition, photos of celebrities and their children are subject to a level of study and inspection that no photo of me or my kids will ever have to worry about.

Second, I happily share photos of my kids and our adventures. I don’t know that more than a handful of folks seek out these photos; the grandparents enjoy seeing the updates — others are likely bored to tears by now.

When Camille was very young, I was harassed by people who worried for the safety of my children because of the photos I shared on the web. At first, I was frightened and shocked by the ugliness of these so-called “good samaritains”. Even today, as we practice Free Range Parenting, it is not “evil people” whom I fear; instead, I fear these so-called good samaritains.

Yes, there are pedophiles out there, I’m sure. But I’m not going to let the absolute tiniest chance that one may come across a photo of one of my children stop me from posting photos. I refuse to live in fear from every possible occurrence. Sure, I lock my car when it is in my driveway; the minor inconvenience is outweighed by the highly possible chance that someone might enter it during the night (there has been a history of car break-ins in our area). I use other safety measures when the dangers are real. But things that are simply perceived as dangers? I tend to ignore them and go on my happy way. I will not worry about protecting me and my kids from every minute chance. If I was to go that far, I’d never have them ride in a car, play at the pool or help me make dinner.

For me, the sharing of photos of our daily lives brings me joy and brings others (the grandparents, probably — most others are surely bored of my photos by now) joy as well. I post these photos on this blog. I also use my children’s real names in my posts. I find it confusing when others make up pseudonums for their kids, especially when I am with them in person. I honestly don’t see the point. If, in the minute chance someone wanted to know their names, they’d have no troubling figuring them out with just a little legwork.

On the other hand,I do admit that different people have different comfort levels in regards to privacy. I try to not post embarrassing photos or write really embarrassing/crude/rude things about my friends and family. This is the extent to which I consider what I write and post. This is the level of privacy that is comfortable for me.

I have made an informed choice when deciding to have a not-so-private life on the internet. I try to be respectful of my family and friends in that life. I keep in mind that what I do on the internet is in some sense permanent. I also remind people that my opinions and ideas change with time. Just because I write this now, does not mean that I may not one day feel differently and will feel frustrated by the choice I made. As it goes, I’ve made quite a lot of decisions in my life that are not reversible and have left me feeling slightly uneasy to some degree, be it miniscule or maybe larger. Did I make the right choice in buying this house? Did I make the right choice in buying a third car? Just as I refuse to live in fear of every possible danger that might be lurking, I also refuse to let myself be dragged down by nagging doubts. And so, I share with you yet another photo of my lovely girls.

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