I'm Carolina Moreno, a dental hygienist and single mom in Houston. Two months ago, I made tacos for Sunday dinner—Camila's favorite—and she barely touched her plate. "Not hungry," she mumbled, eyes glued to her phone. I didn't think much of it at first. But then it kept happening. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Her jeans started hanging off her hips. Her face looked thinner, hollow. One morning, I watched her step on the bathroom scale three times, and when she saw me, she burst into tears. "I'm still not thin enough, Mom." That's when I knew something was terribly wrong.
Meet the Moreno Family Story
Saving my daughter from the algorithm that weaponized her insecurities
Our Family's Struggle
Challenge
Camila had always been self-conscious about her weight. She wasn't overweight—just a little curvier than the other girls at school—but kids can be cruel. A few classmates had made comments last year, and it stuck with her. I tried to build her up, telling her she was beautiful, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. Then, almost overnight, everything spiraled. She stopped eating lunch at school. She'd come home and lock herself in her room, scrolling on her phone for hours. In two months, she lost 15 pounds. Her clothes didn't fit. Her energy disappeared. When I tried to talk to her, she'd snap: "You don't understand! I need to lose more!" I felt helpless. I didn't know where this was coming from until I noticed her phone was always in her hand, screen glowing with video after video. One night, I knocked on her door and asked to see what she was watching. She hesitated, then handed it over. My stomach turned. Video after video of impossibly thin girls showing "What I Eat in a Day"—500 calories, maybe less. The comments were even worse: "Goals!" "I wish I had your discipline." That's when I realized: the algorithm was feeding her sickness.
Solution
I downloaded FamiSafe the next morning and connected it to Camila's phone. The TikTok History feature showed me everything she'd been watching—and it was worse than I thought. Hours of extreme diet content, body-checking videos, "thinspiration" posts. The keyword alert feature flagged searches like "500 calorie diet" and "how to lose 10 pounds fast." The app had trapped her in a cycle of comparison and self-hatred. I didn't yell or take her phone away. Instead, I sat her down at the kitchen table, showed her the data, and said, "This isn't healthy, mija. And I'm scared." She cried. She admitted she felt trapped—like she couldn't stop watching, couldn't stop comparing herself. Together, we set limits: 45 minutes of TikTok per day, with sensitive keyword alerts turned on. I also reached out to her school counselor, who referred us to a therapist specializing in body image issues. Slowly, Camila started eating again. We cooked together. We talked more. Last week, she told me she'd deleted some of the accounts she used to follow. "They weren't helping me, Mom. They were hurting me." Hearing her say that was everything.