Brazilian Influencer Rhayssa Martins Puts Her Twins Before the Feed

By James Calloway

Rhayssa Martins won the Family category of the Influency.me 2026 Award, and she says the most important changes in her career came not from the trophy but from the birth of her twin daughters. The Brazilian influencer, who started with nothing but a phone, now weighs every post against her children's privacy.

"Eu comecei sem saber onde a internet poderia me levar, somente com um celular e um sonho, sem imaginar que um dia milhões de pessoas fariam parte da minha vida," Martins told O Globo, recalling her start.

Her videos now reach millions of people. But the shift she describes is structural, not just numeric. What began as a solo project grew to include her husband and, later, the twins, who became part of the daily content she shares with followers.

"Aos poucos as pessoas começaram a acompanhar não somente a Rhayssa e começaram a acompanhar a nossa família," she said. Her audience, she notes, has developed its own affectionate bond with the girls: "Não são só números. Hoje minhas geminhas têm milhões de titias."

What changed when the twins arrived?

Motherhood reshaped how Martins organizes her routine and evaluates professional opportunities. In a job where personal life routinely becomes content, she now considers different factors before publishing anything involving her daughters — two children who cannot yet decide for themselves whether to appear online.

"Antes eu pensava muito como influenciadora, hoje eu penso primeiro como mãe," she said. The line captures the pivot: the work remains part of her identity, but career decisions now run through the family's needs first. Not everything, she argues, needs to be recorded or shared.

The twins' birth was the turning point. "Foi no nascimento das geminhas que eu senti que começava uma nova fase não só da minha vida, mas da nossa família inteira," she recalled.

How does she balance sharing with privacy?

The exposure of children on social media is an industry-wide tension for creator families. Photos of playtime, outings and celebrations drive identification and engagement, but they also raise questions about intimacy and a child's right to privacy — consequences that can outlast childhood itself, even while parents hold decision-making power during it.

Martins draws a hard line. "Acima de qualquer conteúdo estão as minhas filhas," she said. Her rule is simple in practice: some moments can be published, others stay private. That distinction has become part of how she runs her work.

The past few months tested those boundaries. Martins faced personal pressure and emotional strain, and the experience reinforced the need for spaces that don't depend on platform reaction. Familiarity with an audience, she suggests, doesn't erase the need to separate public from private life — even when the family is central to the content.

What does the award signal?

The Influency.me 2026 win recognizes years of content production and a deliberate shift toward family-centered material. It also lands at a moment when Martins measures professional growth against a different yardstick.

"O que eu sonho e construo não é mais pensando em mim. É pensando nelas, na nossa família," she said.

For brands and agencies betting on family creators, Martins offers a working model of the category's next phase: reach measured in millions, decisions made by a mother first.