I post photos of and share details about my children online because it's part of my job. I don't see any downsides.

• Melissa Petro writes stories about her children, balancing the risks and benefits of public exposure.
• Despite past media scrutiny, she believes openness combats societal issues and personal struggles.
• She argues that storytelling's financial and emotional rewards outweigh potential privacy concerns.

Recently, when speaking on a panel about the responsibilities of caretaking and the work of building a creative career, I admitted what felt like a cardinal sin: I've written about my kids, and I'll probably keep doing it.

While the rest of the parent-writers on the panel solemnly shook their heads, I freely admitted that my kids are frequently talked about by name in my work. "My children don't get any more — or less — consideration than any other people in my life who might make their way into my writing. I weigh the risks, and if a story needs to be told, I tell it as responsibly as I can."

What I also do, which many people may not agree with, is post photos of my children on my social media and in my articles as a freelance writer. I see no harm in it.

At the beginning of my career, I decided to be entirely open about my life — including my life as a mother

I'm well aware of the pros and cons of oversharing online. 10 years before becoming a parent, I was the victim of mass media humiliation, an experience that might've made some people more private. Public shame and speculation had the opposite effect on me: I learned our secrets keep us sick, individually and as a society.

After the scandal and before motherhood, I wrote about nearly every aspect of my life — from my sex work past, mental health struggles and overcoming addiction, to professional achievements and how I deal with my success.

When parenting very young children through a pandemic bowled me over, I wrote about that, too. I've written extensively about what I've learned mothering a child with special needs, including the period I was compelled to homeschool.

Whereas some parents may feel skittish about sharing details that would expose them to scrutiny, I make it no secret that my now-seven-year-old son has a cellphone or that my children spend copious amounts of time on screens. My kids are the main characters in the latter chapters of my memoir, too, and my daughter is frequently highlighted in social media posts promoting that book, which I dedicated to her.

Parents are free to keep their private lives private — just don't shame parents who don't

While it's not unusual to hear parents say they never post photos of their children online, the conversation can get ugly when it concerns parents who share. It's common to hear that parents who post about their kids online are putting their children's privacy and personal data at risk.

I know parents who would never post their children's faces or any identifying information, like their kid's full name, gender, or date of birth, or disclose any information that might reveal their child's location, such as the name of their child's school.

That's their choice, and they're free to make it.

For me, the rewards outweigh the risks

I'm not a doctor or novelist — I'm a personal essayist. I've made a career from telling intimate stories about my life. My family's stories are my stories, and my stories pay my bills.

Some might argue that I could hold back on details, but my creative process is such that anything could become content, and details make a narrative come alive.

I respect when my editors request photos to illustrate my stories because images give a story context. In today's media landscape, all this additional labor is an expected aspect of publishing.

I can't afford to worry how a story about my toddler's toilet troubles might dissuade a recruiter from offering them a job in 20 years. I pitch these stories because editors buy them, and they buy them because readers are interested in real-life stories about everyday challenges.

When it comes to actual risks, I'm skeptical

The financial and professional benefits of sharing online are enormous. The idea that "oversharing" makes a child vulnerable to harm reminds me of when we all worried about razor blades in Halloween candy and panicked when we saw an unmarked white van.

Instances of stalking, bullying, and harassment as a result of information a stranger acquired solely on the internet are rare. When a crime occurs— when an image is altered or misused by a malicious actor — there's a tinge of victim-blaming (or mom-blaming).

More typically, our stories are twisted out of context, and a person's reputation is damaged by other people's misconceptions and ignorance. Take, for example, when another news outlet retold the story of my family's fight to obtain a free and appropriate education for my then-kindergartener and misinterpreted the essay's intent.

Essays that rile up trolls and result in tabloid ridicule are oftentimes the same pieces that earn a writer countless calls and emails from readers desperate for advice and thankful that we shared our story.

"You'll feel differently when your kids are older," other writers sometimes say — and maybe they're right. But I don't think so.

At ages 5 and 7, my kids are still too young to fully understand privacy and consent. For now, they enjoy that mommy's a writer and are delighted to be included in my public life.

They look for my book's cover every time we enter a bookstore, and they love seeing their photos online so much that they'll ask me to make videos or take pictures and have a hand in the editing process, such as choosing a filter or adding a song.

I might behave differently if that wasn't the case, but I'm unsure. I teach my children the one thing I know to be true: our stories matter, and we all have the right to share them. It's a lesson that seems to be sticking: my daughter tells me she wants to be a writer when she grows up.