Redefining the Narrative or Dodging Accountability? A Look at Kyra Sivertson's Podcast Appearance

 Her side of the story left more questions than answers.


As a fellow mother, I understand the emotional complexities we carry daily—raising children, navigating relationships, and trying to find ourselves amidst the chaos. I know what it feels like to be judged for your choices, even when you're doing your best. That’s why I approached Kyra Sivertson’s appearance on the podcast Don’t Worry, I’ll Ask with Isaac Rochell with an open mind. I wanted to hear her story in her own words.

She spoke about heartbreak, loss, and the journey of starting over. She declared that she’s not selfish and that people have unfairly reduced her identity to one private decision. At face value, her vulnerability felt honest—but as I listened closer, I realized something was missing: true accountability.

I came across Kyra and the OKbaby drama after watching commentary videos on YouTube and scrolling through countless TikToks that unpacked what happened between her and Oscar Morales. I saw breakdowns of the infamous breakup video, the aftermath, and the tangled drama involving Hannah and Preston. From creators like Dad Challenge Podcast to smaller TikTokers dubbing it “the worst breakup video of all time,” I got pulled into a rabbit hole. And after hearing Kyra’s side, I felt compelled to share a few thoughts of my own.

This blog isn’t about dragging another mom. It’s about being honest when someone who built their brand on transparency chooses to hide behind carefully worded excuses. Let’s unpack the episode—and everything she didn’t say.

What She Said

In the podcast, Kyra opened up about how difficult the last few years have been. She explained how her life fell apart after the public breakup with Oscar, how she struggled with mental health, and how deeply the backlash affected her. The quote that stood out—and sparked the most discussion—was this:

“Who I chose to sleep with one time became my whole identity.”


She expressed frustration that people were focusing on one moment in her life instead of seeing her as a whole person. She wanted people to know that she's more than a mistake and that the narrative online was unfair. She emphasized that she's not selfish—just human, trying to learn and heal. However, she ended up marrying that person she slept with.

She also hinted at feeling misunderstood and blamed the internet for creating a version of her that she doesn’t recognize.

Why It Doesn’t Add Up

While her words may have sounded vulnerable, the message was loaded with deflection. Here’s the issue: Kyra’s telling of events isn’t just incomplete—it’s manipulative.

  • She downplayed her actions. Referring to the alleged affair as just “who I chose to sleep with one time” completely minimizes the emotional weight of betrayal. Cheating isn’t just about sex—it’s about lies, broken trust, and emotional harm. It's about hurting someone who shared a life, children, and future plans with you.

  • She avoided using the word “cheating.” Not once did she call it what many believe it was. By leaving that part vague, she protected her image rather than truly owning the pain she caused. If she didn’t cheat, she could say that. If she did, she should admit it. Skimming over the truth doesn’t build trust—it breaks it further.

  • She centered herself in the pain. While she talked about how hard the backlash was on her, she said very little about Oscar, their children, or how her choices may have affected them. That silence speaks volumes.

  • She weaponized vulnerability. There’s a difference between being vulnerable and using emotional language to gain sympathy while refusing to take responsibility. Kyra blurred that line. And many viewers noticed.

Saying you’re not selfish doesn’t automatically make it true. Being selfish isn’t just about taking—it’s about refusing to give the truth when people deserve it. And in this case, her fans, her ex, and her children deserve more than selective storytelling.

The Bigger Picture: When Influencers Choose the Narrative

In this podcast Kyra's appearance reveals a growing issue in influencer culture: the performance of vulnerability without the practice of accountability. These creators build a platform by sharing their lives—but when controversy hits, they curate what parts to reveal and what to rewrite.

She had an opportunity to say:

“I made a mistake. I hurt someone. I didn’t handle it the right way.”

But instead, she said:

“People are unfairly judging me for something small.”

And that’s where trust erodes.

What Kyra fails to realize is that people aren’t angry because she moved on. They’re upset because she refused to be honest about how it all happened. The internet didn’t create her “identity”—her actions did.

And when your career is built on authenticity, dodging the truth becomes its own betrayal.

The Silent Betrayal: Emotional Cheating Is Still Cheating

One of the most painful parts of this podcast with Kyra—and this entire situation—isn’t just what she did. It’s what she didn’t say to the one person who deserved to hear it most: Oscar.

Kyra admitted on the podcast that she and Preston developed an emotional connection while they were both still in their respective relationships. That alone speaks volumes. Cheating isn't just physical—emotional infidelity can be just as destructive, especially when it's hidden, nurtured in secrecy, and allowed to grow in the absence of honesty.

She also said she was going through a rough time, but she never told Oscar. That in itself is a betrayal. When you're in a committed relationship, especially one that built a family, communication is not optional—it’s essential. Oscar was blindsided, left to process the shock not just of the breakup, but of discovering everything after the fact.

And then there’s Preston—Kyra’s best friend’s husband at the time. If your best friend’s partner is texting you, confiding in you, or reaching out to “check in,” you don’t entertain that conversation privately—you tell your bestfriend. That is the boundary. That is the line. And Kyra didn’t just cross it—she destroyed it.

What makes it worse is that once emotional affairs begin, people often look for reasons to justify leaving their partner. They start mentally checking out. They create conflict or distance as a way to push the relationship to its breaking point. And that’s exactly what seems to have happened here. It’s clear now that Kyra was already emotionally cheating on Oscar, and perhaps Preston on Hannah, too.

And still, the lingering question remains:
Why didn’t Kyra even try to work it out with Oscar?
There was no mention of counseling, of fighting for the relationship, of choosing family first. Instead, the excuse was: “I needed to find myself.”

But as a mother, I can’t relate to that. I didn’t lose myself when I became a mom—I gained a deeper, fuller version of myself. Parenting changes us, yes, but it doesn’t erase who we are. If anything, it gives us more reason to grow, not walk away.

Finding yourself shouldn’t mean abandoning those who needed you the most.

Final Thoughts


In this podcast episode was clearly a personal moment for her, but no pressing questions about the Vegas photo, the texting in the back video while Oscar and Hannah is playing with the heelys shoes. Though there's so many things this podcast can discuss we all know the truth. She cried, she opened up, and she told a version of her truth. But emotional expression isn’t the same as accountability. And image rehabilitation isn’t the same as healing.

What makes this even more painful is the impact this decision will have on her young children. When you build a platform around your family, every personal choice becomes a public one. Her children will one day grow up and have access to every video, every podcast, every comment thread—and they’ll have to piece together their own understanding of what happened. That’s a burden no child should have to carry, especially when the truth was blurred and never fully acknowledged in the first place.

Kyra also mentioned in the podcast that if she had chosen not to do what she did, maybe she should have—but at that time, she said it was her choice, and she “did it anyway.” Let’s not ignore what that “it” was: pursuing a relationship with Preston, who at the time was her best friend’s husband. That best friend being Hannah, who also appeared frequently in their family content. This wasn't a moment of weakness—it was a conscious decision to cross boundaries, hurt someone she loved, and prioritize her own desires above all else.

Now, Kyra and Preston are married. And while people are allowed to move on and find happiness, how they get there matters. What hurts is that Kyra speaks in vague, wordy language that avoids the full weight of her choices. It’s hard—nearly impossible—to be on her side when she doesn’t want to be clear with her words. From what was said, and more importantly, what was implied, it’s evident: she had a choice—and she chose him.

Had she owned that choice fully, acknowledged the pain it caused, and truly taken accountability, this conversation might have been different. But instead, what we got was a deflection wrapped in vulnerability, which leaves more questions than closure.

As mothers, we teach our kids to own their mistakes, say sorry, and make it right.
We should hold ourselves—and each other—to that same standard.

So here’s the truth: **Kyra might believe she’s not selfish. But watching her rewrite the story to protect her image while sidestepping the real damage—especially to her children and the people she once called friends—**is selfishness in its rawest form.


if you haven't seen the podcast click the link below:

Don't Worry I'll ask with Isaac Rochell ft. Kyra Sivertson



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