Whatever Happened to Tween Content?
Once upon a time, tweens had their own universe.
There were Nickelodeon and Disney Channel stars — the IT boys and girls of the 2000s and early 2010s — who shaped everything from fashion to friendships. They were cool, but still relatable. Young enough to feel like your mate, yet old enough to look up to.
Fast forward to today, and that world has quietly vanished. The era of Hannah Montana, iCarly, and Victorious has been replaced by TikTok, YouTube and Instagram — platforms with no real “in-between” stage for growing up online.
And that raises a serious question: what happens to a generation with no dedicated space to just be tweens anymore?
From Tween Idols to Influencers
Disney Channel once served as a cultural middle ground — glossy but safe, aspirational but age-appropriate. Shows had morals (albeit cheesy ones), storylines about friendship, and characters who made mistakes without facing internet-sized consequences.
Now, that content gap has been filled by social media influencers — adults who are often selling lifestyles, products, and beauty standards rather than relatable experiences.
Instead of looking up to Selena Gomez in Wizards of Waverly Place, tweens are scrolling past twenty-somethings with full glam routines, curated aesthetics, and sponsorship deals. The line between inspiration and imitation has blurred, leaving many tweens trying to grow up too fast.
No Safe Space to Grow
Tween-focused TV used to act as a kind of buffer — a space where young audiences could experiment with identity, fashion, and friendship before stepping into the harsher realities of adolescence.
But TikTok, Instagram and YouTube collapse all those stages together. Ten-year-olds share digital spaces with adults. The content they consume — makeup tutorials, “Get Ready With Me” videos, and lifestyle vlogs — isn’t necessarily for them, but it’s what they see the most.
Without age-targeted media, the natural curiosity of tweens is being funnelled through platforms designed for engagement, not wellbeing. The result? Kids trying to look, act, and post like adults before they’ve had the chance to just be kids.
When Childhood Becomes Content
Tweens are incredibly impressionable, and the influencer world knows that.
From viral “clean girl” aesthetics to daily skincare routines featuring £50 serums, the messaging is subtle but powerful: appearance equals value.
It’s easy to see how that pressure builds.
Social media rewards visibility — the prettier, the older, the more polished you look, the more likes you get. The performance of adulthood has become a kind of social currency, even for those who haven’t reached their teens.
And while most influencers don’t set out to harm, the ecosystem itself doesn’t differentiate between a 12-year-old viewer and a 25-year-old one. It’s all just data, clicks, and conversions.
This creates a perfect storm — one where boundaries blur, algorithms overexpose, and predators inevitably take notice. (And yes, that’s a conversation that deserves more than a footnote, even if we only touch on it lightly here.)
The Cultural Consequences
Without a middle layer of media — that tween space where content is aspirational yet innocent — we’re losing an important stage of development. The jump from Bluey to TikTok is too big.
There’s no more gentle transition, no more silly sitcoms about school crushes or friendship dramas that end in a group hug. Instead, tweens are consuming content made for adults and trying to replicate it — from fashion trends to language to online personas.
It’s not about being prudish or nostalgic for the past; it’s about balance.
When every screen is a mirror reflecting adult ideals, how can children learn who they are outside of those influences?
Reimagining Tween Media for a Digital World
Maybe it’s time we rethink what tween content looks like in 2025.
The platforms have changed, but the need hasn’t. Tweens still want role models, stories, and spaces that speak to their stage of life — not ones that rush them through it.
Creators, brands, and media companies have an opportunity to build those spaces again — to make content that celebrates awkwardness, curiosity, creativity, and joy without pushing kids into premature adulthood.
Because right now, tweens aren’t growing up with Disney Channel.
They’re growing up with TikTok — and that’s a completely different kind of storytelling.
The question isn’t just “what happened to tween content?”
It’s whether we’re willing to rebuild it — before a whole generation forgets what it’s like to just be a kid.

