The double standard in sharenting.

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When Tongan-Australian TikToker Ilai Havea Matangi (aka Havea 676) made history at the 2025 Australian TikTok Awards, his joy was infectious. With a trembling mouth, he thanked God, his community, and his "beautiful family" for allowing him to reach the pinnacle of success as Creator of the Year.

Havea, who documents his life as a "girl dad" through pranks and skits with his three daughters, is undeniably a deserving winner. His content is funny, warm, and wholesome.

But his victory shines a spotlight on an uncomfortable truth in the creator economy: we grade fathers on a curve.

In a year marked by vicious criticism of "sharenting" (the practice of parents sharing their children's lives online) Havea's win begs the question: would a mother have been able to hoist that trophy under the same circumstances? 

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The dad-bonus.

The internet loves a TikTok dad. 

When a dad involves his kid in his content, we use phrases like "involved', "engaged" and "changing the narrative on masculinity."

Take American heavyweight 'Dude Dad' (Taylor Calmus) or Kiwi sensation 'How To Dad' (Jordan Watson). Both have built platforms on the wholesome chaos of parenting, their comment sections a sea of praise.

On Instagram, dads like Jarrod and Michael who run the Real Dads Of Melbourne Instagram account also received mostly positive comments for their depiction of life as a same-sex couple raising a family, while YouTuber La Guardia Cross is beloved for his viral 'interviews' with his adorable toddlers.

Influencer mums trolled to breaking point.

Earlier this year, creator Indy Clinton revealed she had hired a private investigator to look into the relentless trolling she'd received for the past year, mostly from people accusing her of 'exploiting' her children online. 

When she posted a video addressing the situation, acknowledging that the constant abuse had been "life or death" for her, a number of commenters doubled down.

"So, you got a PI because people troll you. Yet, you're the one that puts up all the ridiculous things you do. Exploiting your children and husband then you complain because people make harsh comments. Yet, it's never affected you enough to stop posting. You just found a new angle to get attention," one person wrote.

"You're weird," sniped another. 

Health and fitness creator Sarah Stevenson — aka 'Sarah's Day' — has also come under intense criticism for the details she shares about her children online. 

"There are plenty of family vloggers who exploit their children, and I think Sarah is up there with the worst of them," wrote one Redditor. 

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Valid concern wrapped in a double standard.

The issue of 'sharenting' and the ethics behind how much of our children's lives we reveal online has grown increasingly thorny in recent years, and with good reason. 

As the first generation of 'Mummy Blogger' kids grows up, we're hearing firsthand about the impacts of the well-meaning but uninformed actions of their parents. A viral essay in Teen Vogue written by "Claire," the anonymous child of a well-known influencer, laid it out in stark, confronting detail.

She shared the humiliation of her high school friends finding pictures of her toilet-training online, and the betrayal she felt that her mum "valued brand deals more than her."

Another influencer's child, Cam Barrett, who was followed home by strangers who knew intimate medical details about her — like when she got her first period — is another prominent voice on the issue. 

A recent viral advertisement out of Ireland, warning parents of the dangers of sharing their children's lives online, has opened the conversation even further. 

It's undoubtedly a topic that warrants a nuanced conversation, and as we stare down the barrel of Australia's upcoming social media ban for kids, one that will continue to take up column space. 

But, as is so common online, the tendency to conflate the issue with the influencer has resulted in a lopsided dolloping of the blame. 

Women who post about motherhood online are labelled toxic, 'sad beige moms', grifters, exploiters, manipulators and worse. 

Men who post about fatherhood are often credited with 'changing the narrative,' 'demonstrating positive masculinity' and 'giving us all a laugh'.

While Havea's TikTok Awards win was a moment worth celebrating, it's worth noting that, in the current climate of discussion around kids and online safety, the conversation may well have been very different had a mother with similar content been up there accepting the award.

In an internet landscape increasingly pushing only the most black and white points of view, it's worth acknowledging the 'yes, and' grey areas here.

Havea's content is wonderful and we love him. And there is also a valid argument against parents sharing their kids online. 

Many mums on TikTok and other platforms might cross the line between appropriate and safe sharing of their children. And those mums don't deserve the rabid trolling in a rapidly-evolving world where many are still learning.

If we don't find space for this nuance, it seems the difference between being crowned a creator and being branded an exploiter will continue to depend simply on who is holding the camera.

Feature Image: Supplied.