Scrolling through Facebook recently, I came across a photo that made me see red. The image, posted by an acquaintance, showed their kitchen table covered with around twenty immaculately wrapped presents for their daughter. Behind the presents, there was a huge balloon arch and a light box that read 'Birthday ready!' But one thing was missing from the photo – the birthday girl. In fact, there were no people in the image at all. That's when I realized the point of the whole thing was simply an excuse to show off how many gifts the parents bought their child that year.
I was shocked that we had normalized this kind of blatant display of wealth. Although I'm not sure what was in them, the presents and the post itself seemed like they were only there to impress. But I was far from impressed. As a single parent, money isn't ever far from my mind – so I initially felt disgusted by it. I wondered if perhaps I was the one who was out of touch – every parent has different budgets for their children, according to their income and values – maybe they weren't even filled with expensive gifts. But it wasn't the amount of presents that was the issue; it was the display of it.
And this isn't the first time I have seen something like this. A few days later, I came across a very similar picture on Facebook from a distant relative, with virtually the same setup: balloon arch and lightbox. I didn't say anything to them – I could do without the drama it would create, and I doubted that a comment from me would do anything to change their behavior anyway. I found myself longing for simpler times – when we made homemade rainbow cakes for our children and posted the results of our faces covered in icing, not our entire living room covered in presents.
The Pressure of Social Media Parenting
I'm not a scrooge about birthdays. I know how special gifts are for kids. My daughter Polly recently celebrated turning 15, and because her dad and I are amicably divorced and live near each other, our tradition is that we'll always wake her up together with a slice of homemade birthday cake, her presents, and cards. This year, her dad and I both gave her presents, and we spent about the same, more or less – a decent amount, not too much and not too little. To keep things exciting, I make sure that every year I do something different. We always go out for lunch and spend the day together, whether that's bowling, going to the cinema, or a meal out.
What I don't do is take a photo of a pile of her presents to post on social media, flaunting the amount of money I have spent. I don't think it's relevant or helpful to other parents who I know. As a freelancer and single parent, my monthly income can fluctuate, especially around the school holidays when I have to work a little less so I can spend time with my kid. To survive, I juggle three jobs and receive Child Benefits and Universal Income. Without the generosity of my mum, her larger family, and her dad, I'm acutely aware that Polly would have fewer presents to open. And this matters because not all children in Britain are as lucky.
The Reality of Child Poverty
I want her to be aware of that. It gives her compassion and she can learn how to understand privilege. At the moment, a jaw-dropping 4.5 million children were in poverty in the year to April 2024, an increase of 100,000 from the previous year – that's 31% of children across the UK. As a children's author, I regularly visit state schools around the country and meet kids who don't own a book of their own. I meet teachers who buy coats for their pupils out of their own salary because their parents can't afford to. I've lost count of the tired young faces I've seen sitting in front of me, wondering how much heating and food is waiting at home for them. This is the heartbreaking reality of being a child in modern Britain.
And, unless they've been living under a rock for the last few years, I bet the people who post those mountains of presents must know about at least some of this. I don't think they're being deliberately malicious – I just think they are influenced by sharenting, parenting influencers, and social media. I get it. Parenting is challenging, and perhaps this is their way of telling themselves they're smashing it. We all do this in different ways.
But when I saw, in another post, a photo of a young child brandishing a £50 note with a mountain of presents in the background, I felt sick and tired of having these sorts of images in my feed from people I used to respect. I'm conscious that at any one time, some of our friends may go through a financial challenge, whether that's through redundancy, separation, illness, or a change in circumstances – seeing a mountain of presents they couldn't afford for their own child feels cruel.
I hope this year people can show a little restraint around what goes on their feed as a way of acknowledging their privilege and the inequality for children today. We all could do with thinking about children who are not getting much this year, and show compassion and a little awareness.
