Smile For The Camera

Smile For The Camera

When I was ten, my biggest worry was whether I’d get to sit next to my best friend in class.
My proudest moment? Probably winning a school competition.
My afternoons were spent lying on the floor, scribbling words in a glittery diary that no one was allowed to read.

Now, imagine a world where a child never gets to have those moments. A world where glitter is replaced by glam. Where the diary is a script, the classroom is a studio, and the spotlight never fades.

This is the reality for many child influencers.

At first glance, it all seems harmless.

A cute outfit. A dance challenge. A vlog from a birthday party.
But beneath the soft pink filters and curated captions lies something much more complex.

These children grow up under the gaze of millions. Their smiles, tantrums, friendships, and even their heartbreaks are consumed like episodes of a never-ending reality show.
They are not just seen. They are sold.

The internet praises them for being "mature beyond their years". But is that really a compliment? Or is it a quiet confession that we’ve taken something from them, too soon and without asking?

Because behind every viral video is a camera.
Behind every camera, a parent.
And behind every parent, perhaps a dream, not the child’s, but their own.

There’s no denying that some of these young influencers love what they do. But love and consent are not the same.
Can a child truly consent to turning their life into a brand?

What happens when they grow up and want privacy, but the internet never forgets?
What happens when the algorithms change, the views go down, and suddenly, their worth is measured not by who they are but by how entertaining they can be?

We talk a lot about protecting children from the dangers of the online world. But what if we are the danger?
What if the followers, the likes, the views – weapons disguised as applause – are building cages we can’t even see?

Childhood should be messy, slow, boring, and safe.
It should be filled with mistakes no one remembers and dreams we earn rather than monetise.

Because the moment we begin to profit from a child's existence, we stop protecting it.

And maybe it’s time we ask: Are these children living their dream, or are they simply just performing ours?