When the toddler becomes the content: what Molly-Mae’s show says about oversharing children

I’ve spoken a lot about the risks of parents oversharing their children online, but I’ve still been surprised by how many young people have reached out to me about it. They’ve said how humiliating it is to have their childhood posted for everyone to see (crying, tantrums, toilet training) things that should have been private.

Now, Molly-Mae Hague’s new Amazon Prime series has reignited the same conversation. Clips have gone viral showing her daughter Bambi potty training, crying, and even defecating in the bath. On top of that, Bambi’s already been the subject of online jokes and memes after Molly admitted earlier this year that she’d bitten another child at nursery. So this is a toddler who’s been in national headlines multiple times before she’s even old enough to understand what that means.

In defence of Molly-Mae, she could sneeze and be accused of being out of touch. She’s made a few tone-deaf comments over the years, but she takes the criticism, carries on, and still shows up. That deserves credit. But this one is different. She also got criticised for spending most of the series complaining, with viewers calling it tone-deaf given how privileged her life is. This followed her earlier remark that she’d “done nothing fun this summer,” despite having been to places like Wimbledon, Dubai and Disneyland.

When being relatable crosses into exposure

I understand what she’s trying to do. She’s positioning herself as a relatable mum who isn’t afraid to show the harder side of parenting. And for some parents, that’s probably reassuring. But the problem is that being “authentic” has now become a performance too. The tears, the chaos, the messy moments - they all get edited, captioned and monetised. It’s not really real; it’s curated vulnerability.

When that performance involves your child, it becomes something else entirely. Children can’t consent to being turned into content. And even when they appear comfortable around a camera, that’s not consent, it’s conditioning. Familiarity doesn’t equal approval.

The new child labour

We’ve got strict rules about child actors, advertising and even reality TV, but influencer culture still operates in a legal grey area. Children can be featured in monetised content that helps pay their parents’ bills, yet they’re rarely credited, compensated, or even considered part of the business arrangement.

Bambi probably didn’t receive a paycheque for her most humiliating moment, and to be honest, if I’d been filmed shitting in the bath, I’d want to be set up for life for that kind of humiliation. It would need to be a payout large enough for me to move to an island and never show my face again.

The problem with big platforms

The most disappointing part is that a major company like Amazon approved it. When YouTubers overshare their kids, at least you can say there’s no editorial structure. But this went through production meetings, editors, compliance, and still made it to air. Not one person said, “maybe the general public doesn’t need to see this.”

People have also raised concerns that there were likely men in the room while these scenes were being filmed, which makes the whole thing even more uncomfortable. And then beyond that, how did it all still get signed off afterwards?

No one’s saying to sugar-coat parenthood. Everyone knows raising a child is difficult. But showing your toddler’s low moments on a global streaming service isn’t honesty, it’s exploitation dressed up as openness.

The personal side of it

I’m so grateful I didn’t grow up in the age of social media. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have my childhood permanently recorded and searchable. If my parents had posted videos of me as a kid, I’d have been mortified. And for children of influencers, it’s even worse. Those videos aren’t just on their parents’ channels; they’re indexed on Google, reposted by strangers, and impossible to erase. You have no control over where they end up or who’s watching them.

I think about that a lot when I see kids being filmed in vulnerable moments. The parent gets endorphins and engagement. The child gets a digital record they’ll never escape.

The uncomfortable positive

If there’s one positive to come from this, it’s that the backlash might actually change things. Maybe influencers and vloggers will see how uncomfortable people are with Bambi being shared this way and think twice before doing the same. Maybe platforms will start to question whether this kind of content is even appropriate.

It’s just a shame that it’s at Bambi’s expense. She didn’t choose to be the cautionary tale for influencer parenting. But maybe she’ll be the one who finally forces the industry to stop treating children like extensions of the brand.

This isn’t about attacking Molly-Mae. It’s about the system that allows this to happen, the platforms that approve it, the audience that rewards it, and the industry that pretends this level of exposure is normal.

Sharing your child online isn’t inherently bad, but there’s a clear difference between showing a proud moment and turning a private one into public entertainment. What’s happened with Bambi should be the point where everyone finally stops and rethinks.

Because for all the talk about being real, the only person who never gets a say in any of this is the child.