child is not an economic asset

For years I repeated to myself a phrase that I could never ignore: children are not economic assets. But around me, especially in the digital universe, it seemed that this line that for me was always so clear was, for many, just a light, almost invisible line. Now, with the arrival of Felca Law I finally feel like I’m starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

I speak as a family photographer, but also as a woman who built her work based on a difficult paradox: I need real images, of real families, of real children, but how do I do this while deeply respecting the limits of those same children?

When I arrived in Portugal, I sought to grow like so many other professionals: through partnerships with influencer mothers. It was, without a doubt, one of the quickest ways to gain visibility. And for a while, it seemed to make sense. But it was also there that I began to see up close what I had only intuited before.

Uncomfortable situations. Comments that stuck with me. Mothers saying, without filter, that they were considering having more children because each pregnancy brought more likesmore reach, more growth. And these were not isolated cases, almost all influencers saw spikes in engagement during pregnancy and, mainly, in the first month of the baby’s life. It was impossible not to question: at what point did childhood become a growth strategy?

This is where the importance of the Felca Law comes in, not just as a symbol, but because of the concrete changes it begins to introduce. The proposal reinforces that children’s digital exposure, especially when there is monetization, is no longer a gray area. There is now clearer responsibility for the adults who manage these images. There is talk of the need to ensure that part of the income generated from content involving minors is protected for the child themselves, recognizing their involuntary role in this “work”. It also introduces more explicit limits on the type of content that can be shared, especially when it touches on a child’s dignity, intimacy or vulnerability.

Another important point is the recognition of the child’s future right to their own image. In other words, what is published by parents today may be questioned tomorrow by their own children. The law begins to open up space for this long-term accountability, something that until now practically did not exist.

In practice, this changes the framework. It stops being just an individual decision for each family and becomes a question of rights. The problem is not with photographing children. Childhood photography has always existed, it has always been memory, art, identity. What changed was something else, it was the emergence of the “child product”.

From the moment privacy became a bargaining chip, A dangerous illusion has been created: that exposing more can buy more time, more stability, more presence at home, more security in motherhood. And this is perhaps the hardest part to face, because it is not born from emptiness.

This is not just about social media. It’s about how, as a society, we fail to care for women and mothers.

It’s about the absence of real support, structures, time, network. What we see online is often not ambition, it’s reaction. It is a response to a system that does not welcome, that does not support, that does not protect. And yes, during this process, I needed to reposition myself.

Two years ago I made the decision to stop partnering with mom influencers. It was not a neutral choice, it had a direct impact on my business. Influencer moms undeniably have one of the most powerful sales tools today. But it was also, for me, a question of coherence.

Today, I found a space that respects my limits: I continue photographing real stories, I continue working with families, but I choose to tell inspiring narratives, never exposing children in vulnerable situations, never turning their intimacy into a strategy.

The Felca Law therefore appears not as a magical solution, but as a sign. A first collective step towards redrawing borders that should never have been so easily crossed. And perhaps, more than regulation, what it brings is an invitation: to rethink the value of childhood outside the logic of consumption.

Because in the end, the question that remains is not legal, it is deeply human: if we start to recognize that a child is not an economic asset, are we really prepared to change everything we have built around this idea?