As the author has written elsewhere regarding their experience on that platform:
Another community that stands out is that of former members of the LDS Church, in particular, those who have chosen to resign their membership. When listening to both current and former Church members share their stories—ranging from bearing testimonies and sharing personal insights into their scripture studies, to processing spiritual abuse and deconstructing their beliefs—there appears to be a common thread among a significant portion of these creators:
Assertions by both active and former members to what the author has described in the disclaimer for this platform as “presumptive Mormonism”: a view of the religion that presumes all Mormons believe the same things in the same way, with little or no deviation, to the point that allowances for differences of opinion, interpretation, or even subjective experiences, are extremely limited, if not completely ignored; as well as vague understanding—and ambiguous discernment—of concepts like the Gospel, doctrine, canonicity, revelation, Church policies, the roles of prophets, apostles, and other church leaders, and any distinction between how they operate and their actual functions as defined by the scriptures and the Church.
Presumptive Mormonism is made apparent when introduced—again, by active and former Mormons—using generalized qualifiers such as “The LDS Church teaches…” or “Mormons believe…” The author contends that such assertions often do not hold up to scrutiny, especially when considering the diversity of the Church’s demographics and the variety of personal beliefs and individual interpretations that exist among its 17 million+ members worldwide.
Active Mormons on social media
For many active Mormons trying their best, though not always successfully, to create uplifting and informative content, it’s just another day in “Zion.” To them, presumptive Mormonism is just “Mormonism,” “doctrine,” “just being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” or “Living the gospel.”
“#ProLDS” content creators discuss their faith from different perspectives and take varied approaches, but with similar goals of sharing the gospel as digital “member-missionaries.” Some do so with stories about their everyday lives and how their faith intersects with those experiences. Others use their platforms to share their scripture studies or discuss the latest Sunday school lessons. Plenty of Mormons are willing to answer questions about their religion from commenters or during live streams. The accuracy of their answers will vary, of course, based on each individual’s understanding. Some are also promoting their LDS-themed podcasts, and others offer perspectives that aren’t typical of the average Mormon like recent adult converts, spouses of those in leadership positions, and active members who are also part of marginalized communities: African-American and Indigenous Latter-day Saints have some fascinating insights and viewpoints to share about their faith journeys.
While much of this Mormon content is intended to be faith-affirming and respectful outreach, an apologetic slant is to be expected, though it may not be their primary focus. Of course, there are plenty of Mormon apologists online—some more ecumenical than others—but many of them are stuck in the rhetorical mire of presumptive Mormonism.
Apologetics should be based on reason and good-faith arguments founded on clearly defined principles. The concern this author has about the discipline, fully acknowledging that their own platform may be labeled as such, is that it can be difficult to argue that apologists lack an agenda, implicating a bias that can undermine authentic discourse and mutual understanding of disparate ideas. Modern interactions—especially online—can often devolve into heated debates, circular reasoning, and contention. A problem that has become elevated to the point that the President of the Church, Russell M. Nelson, felt it necessary to address it directly.
Mormon apologists can also paint themselves into rhetorical corners by leading with a conclusion that the author has inferred to be a logical fallacy: “The Church is true, therefore everything the Church does must have a doctrinally-justifiable reason behind it—even if it doesn’t make any sense to me personally.” To be fair, there exists a doctrinal principle that God’s perception is beyond the cognitive capabilities of mortal human beings. Nevertheless, to employ it as an excuse instead of just acknowledging what could very well be a human error is, at best, naive—at worst, disingenuous.
This becomes especially apparent when Mormon apologists are questioned—sometimes by former members—about controversial subjects related to Church history, past doctrines, discontinued practices, abandoned teachings with little or flimsy basis in scriptural interpretations, antiquated opinions expressed by “modern-day prophets,” outdated and retired policies or current policies that could be argued as objectively contradicted by basic Christian values—especially those embraced by many Christians across denominations. More often than not, such topics are ignored in #ProLDS content. Mormons may also deflect or attempt to offer an impromptu, uninformed rationalization, which doesn’t help their faith tradition or their individual credibility. Occasionally, an intellectually honest and ethically sound response is offered by simply saying, “I don’t know,” but the author feels that this doesn’t happen often enough.
Former Mormons on social media
Another demographic with a long-established digital presence is former members of the Church, for whom presumptive Mormonism reflects a faith tradition and worldview they no longer embrace. Social media platforms, especially TikTok, in this author’s opinion, have helped many former Mormons find their voices and a supportive, empathetic community—something they once thought they already had within the Church until they found themselves questioning their faith.
The opinions former Mormons share are as varied as those of active Mormons. As the author has previously indicated, recollections of their experiences—some considered fondly, others not—typically reflect the circumstances under which each individual parted ways with the Church and how they’ve chosen to process those experiences.
Their stories are similar to those of former members of other so-called “high-demand religions,” often presented in the context of “religious deconstruction”—a practice that’s not limited to anyone experiencing a spiritual crisis. People deconstruct their beliefs constantly to one degree or another as they learn and process new information, even if they don’t realize it.
Former Mormons are also much more willing to discuss controversial subjects related to LDS history, policies, etc., because those topics were often the catalysts that led them to question their faith. The “mental gymnastics” employed by would-be Mormon apologists to try to reconcile such topics with their core beliefs can be frustrating to those who prefer rational explanations.
There is also some objectively hilarious content from former Mormons! While most active members tend to avoid any media associated with those who left the Church, depending on an individual’s sense of humor, the author believes following one or two of the funny ones may be worth considering.
Some of the content by former members has a tone that can be perceived as hostile to the Church, but taking time to listen to what they have to say, especially when relating their personal experiences, can put that tone into perspective. Anger is a secondary emotion; triggered by other feelings: pain, embarrassment, shame, etc.
If the author feels they have something of value to contribute to a discussion, they’ll periodically comment on posts by former Mormons. They try to limit their remarks to the occasional note offering some clarification or missing context on a point of doctrine, or share updated information regarding a Church policy. In such instances, it’s not unusual for the creators to put their guard up, expecting such comments to be followed by unfair accusations and judgment. There may be some pushback in the form of replies to the effect of “I was an active member for years!” or “That’s not what I was taught!” Which is fair.
The author has learned to be more empathetic to the experiences of former Mormons by suspending judgment, actively listening, taking into consideration their perspectives, their understanding of doctrine, personal feelings, and—most importantly—the way other Mormons have treated them; a recurring theme that resonates with the author more than others; one that often elicits a comment to the effect of, “I’m sorry that happened to you. I know that pain because I’ve experienced it too.”
Spiritual abuse
The description of spiritual abuse should sound familiar to most people, even those with minimal exposure to organized religion. Controlling behavior can be found within any environment where power dynamics exist. When it manifests within a community, families, and personal relationships with a shared religious tradition, elements of that faith—even abstract concepts like guilt, shame, and worthiness—can be manipulated into weapons of abuse, and perpetrators can always find justification for their actions by citing verses from scripture. In the case of presumptive Mormonism, there are volumes of texts written by men called as Prophets in which can be found some outdated and harmful ideas that abusers can highlight as prooftexts to validate the pain they inflict on others—and/or to relieve their own conscience.
The author would be leery of any member of the LDS Church who would deny having witnessed this behavior in at least a few Mormons in their lifetime. Spiritual abuse can be nonconfrontational or direct. From self-righteous and judgmental attitudes of anyone who’s been referred to as “Molly Mormon” and “Peter Priesthood,” to overbearing “brothers” and “sisters” complaining about immodesty or making passive-aggressive remarks from the pulpit during a testimony meeting. To say nothing of letter-of-the-law Bishops using tithing declarations—a routine administrative function—as unsanctioned audits of ward members’ personal income, ostensibly to ensure they’re paying a full tithe, or denying access to the temple based on prejudices and assumptions instead of trusting members’ sincerity when answering the recommend questions.
The anecdotal examples above may be dismissed out-of-hand by Mormons who’ve never experienced or witnessed such behavior, or only elicit a knowing eye-roll from active members who have, but they barely scratch the surface. All abuse exists on a spectrum of severity, from zero to terroristic.
The resistance to discussing—or even acknowledging—spiritual abuse is understandable, especially by those within a deeply held faith tradition that emphasizes the importance of love and family. Unfortunately, the persistent refusal to address the phenomenon has led many to conclude that such behavior is tacitly endorsed by Church leaders and even inferred to be an intrinsic element of the theology itself, its blatant hypocrisy ignored—a conclusion arrived at by many former Members who are also victims. What’s especially frustrating is that this problem has long been recognized and warned against in no uncertain terms in LDS scripture. Spiritual abuse is just another way to describe “unrighteous dominion.”:
While many tend to focus on men “holding the priesthood,” it draws attention away from the fact that when an individual—regardless of their gender—is called to serve in any capacity in the Church, they are “set apart” with a priesthood blessing that confers upon them priesthood authority to fulfill their callings. Women who are called to serve in any position do so with the power and authority of the priesthood. From the General Officers of the Relief Society, Young Women, and Primary General Presidencies, to those called to leadership positions in stakes, wards, and branches, as well as missionaries, teachers, and temple workers. The author does not draw attention to this as quasi-feminist apologia, but to point out the fact that women in the Church are just as prone to wield unrighteous dominion and are as capable of spiritual abuse as any man.
In a Church that spans the world across thousands of stakes, comprising tens of thousands of wards and branches, leadership positions alone can be estimated in the hundreds of thousands, none of whom are expected to magnify their callings perfectly. It’s important to note that the hypothetical examples of unrighteous dominion described in the scriptures speak specifically of those among the “few [who] are chosen.” Why would God offer us such a clear description of this harmful behavior—even providing guidance for correcting it, which does not require the priesthood—if we were not expected to recognize unrighteous dominion and to call it out when we do?.
Because Mormon culture tends to place more value on being deferential to authority than challenging it—even in the face of objectively unChristlike behavior.
A foundational belief in the ability for anyone to receive revelation for their personal understanding and growth, guidance in a calling, and anything over which they are granted stewardship can make it easier to just assume that everything that is said or done by Church leaders must be God’s will as if revelation is immediately bestowed on them when they are set apart. An assumption that comes from failing to understand that to receive revelation is a process that requires serious effort, and to exercise the equally foundational tenet to ponder and pray to know for ourselves the truth of the things we learn.
Some former members who have left the Church because of spiritual abuse may not even be familiar with the term, but their descriptions of how they were treated align with established warning signs. Being controlled through guilt, shame, and humiliation by leaders, teachers, and parents, who justified their actions by citing scripture, prophetic utterances, and dogmatic beliefs—just because they had “a little authority.” All resulting in what is clinically described as “trauma.”
When active and former Mormons collide
What’s especially unfortunate is that leaving a faith tradition isn’t always enough to escape spiritual abuse. Former Mormons, describing their experiences online to process and come to terms with the abuse they endured within the Church—understandably fueling their open criticism of the institution—continue to be subjected to insults and abuse from active Mormons in comment sections and video responses to their posts on social media. Some of these commenters are even among the active #ProLDS content creators described above.
Anecdotally, the author feels that while the amount of commentary pushback from both active and former members is probably about even, the tone taken by active Mormons may be described as considerably more judgmental, dismissive, and cruel.
It’s one thing to engage a creator with an apologetic clarification regarding a point of doctrine, and quite another to respond with accusations and bullying. Even applying a pejorative label to the effects of spiritual abuse, glibly referring to their trauma as “church hurt.”
The failure to acknowledge the obvious pain that was experienced, or recognize the courage and vulnerability required to talk about it, is a travesty all on its own, but to then inflict even more harm on top of it, demonstrates an astonishing lack of empathy. The same kind of selfish indifference that Jesus recognized and rebuked, for which there are numerous scriptural examples.
Many of these self-anointed defenders of the Mormon faith justify their attitudes and behavior toward former Mormons the same way that all spiritual abusers do: with cherry-picked references to scripture and isolated statements from General Authorities.
A lot of Mormons are so quick to assume—even to accuse—former members of choosing to forsake the standards of the Church that they never stop to consider any other reasons one could possibly have to leave, like doing so for the sake of their mental health or personal safety.
In May of 2025, a popular former Mormon podcaster completely shut down their creative work and deleting all of their existing content across platforms with no intention of returning because of harassment by active Mormons. Speaking through an intermediary, they said, “...online Mormon folks went over the line messing with my family and professional life.”
Why are Mormons so cruel to former members?
One of the dogmas of presumptive Mormonism is an exaggerated reverence for prophets and apostles as if their callings automatically bestow on them a perfect understanding of God’s will. Thus, it can, and has, been inferred from isolated statements of several General Authorities over the years, that anything spoken or written by a prophet should be blindly accepted as indisputable doctrine as if God had said it personally, regardless of the context or circumstances in which they were expressed, and despite statements from the Church clearly indicating that revelation does NOT work like that!
Despite there being no foundational justification for the belief that prophets—or any Church leaders—are infallible, the dogma persists. There is, in fact, an abundance of scriptural evidence of the fallibility of prophets, from their own admissions of weakness to being rebuked by the very deity Who called them in the first place.
There also exist countless statements by General Authorities that can be described as “not having aged well,” from talks, essays, pamphlets, books, audio and video recordings, and old filmstrips—many published by the Church (some have since been “retired,” others have not), several are even self-described as “doctrinal.” Many of these assertions are based on questionable interpretations of scripture—some made before the restoration of the Church, others by modern-day prophets, expressing their personal opinions while simultaneously demonstrating that no one is immune to implicit biases, from cultural misogyny to systemic racism. To say nothing of the plethora of publicly documented mistakes, missteps, and lapses of moral and ethical judgment found in verified historical records since the Church was formally organized.
What follows is undeniably critical of remarks made by the late Elder Packer. To those who would cite his contemporary, Dalin H. Oaks, who is often quoted as saying, “...it’s wrong to criticize leaders of the Church, even if the criticism is true…” the author notes the conspicuous absence of ellipses (“...”) in most references to this excerpted text—especially when shared in the form of internet memes—which would otherwise indicate that the words, while quoted accurately, are taken out of their original context.
While the transcript of Oaks’ original talk has since been edited to exclude that particular passage, which is probably for the best, Oaks still acknowledged what he had said in an interview, along with additional context conveniently ignored by others, saying,
The author offers this platform as their “other means” of choice while also affirming that they sustain all Church leaders to the degree that they are striving to fulfill and magnify their callings to the best of their abilities. That being said, let the criticism of a past Church leader commence!
When speaking at Utah State University in 1973, Packer warned of professors “who delight in destroying faith.” However, his criticism shifted to an oversimplified and prejudicial assessment that Mormons have relied upon for over half a century to justify ostracizing family and friends over what is a private and, essentially, administrative matter:
Packer would attempt to give these remarks an ecumenical spin, saying, “The professor who is uptight about the subject of religion, the one who can’t… seem to conduct a class without tossing a barb or two at the church, belittling the minister, the rabbi, the priest, the bishop, or the stake president…” but, by that point, the damage had been done.
By labeling anything short of silent self-exile as not “normal behavior,” any reason for leaving the Church other than wanting “to forsake [its] standards” is more easily dismissed. This is only made worse when Packer’s remarks are used to justify the blatantly uncharitable practice within Mormon culture of severing relationships with anyone who leaves the faith, including family members.
When asked to describe outspoken former members of the Church, a lot of active Mormons may paraphrase Packer’s superficial yet quite catchy characterization: “They can leave the Church, but they can’t leave it alone.” The original context of the sentiment may be a complete mystery, including the time and place it was delivered—again, USU, NOT in General Conference—even by whom. Still, as long as they know it can be attributed to “a prophet” or “one of the apostles,” they’ll whip it out whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Such attitudes on the part of many active Mormons also obfuscate problems that have had a more deleterious effect on many former Mormons than any sins they are assumed to have committed. By internalizing Packer’s oversimplified narrative, and placing so much focus on the fact that they “left the Church,” few stop to consider the actual experiences and reasoning that may have led to making that decision in the first place, which can be painful and challenging on its own.
Despite having been subjected to spiritual abuse themselves, when engaging creators on this topic, the author will disclose—or it is simply inferred—that they remain an active member of the Church. In light of this information, they are occasionally asked:
“Why do you stay?”
The author’s choice to frame their testimony in terms of believing in the truth of the Gospel, recognizing the function of the Church as a temporal instrument and not an end unto itself, and acknowledging that all people, up to and including God’s prophets, are fallible human beings, has been met with cynicism. Still, the answer is ultimately one of identifying responsibility. Many victims of spiritual abuse blame the religions they fled for allegedly condoning, excusing, or merely ignoring it. While the author recognizes cultural and systemic factors that perpetuate such behavior, they’ve consistently recognized that God does not condone abuse, nor is there any doctrinal justification for it, and individual perpetrators are personally responsible for their actions, for which it is sincerely believed that they will be held accountable.
Spiritual abuse is objectively wrong and antithetical to the most basic principles of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, as most Christians understand it. It is the author’s opinion that placing blame for any abuse on an organization or religious tradition instead of the abusers themselves may contribute to perpetuating the problem, because it gives the abusers cover. If they’re not explicitly called out, they may very well be the first to step up to defend the faith, saying, in effect, “Do you hear what they’re saying about us?”
When it comes to criticism of the Church in other matters, many of them temporal, the author does not pretend to know enough about any one issue to offer a fully informed opinion, preferring to leave the task of defending the faith to those with more knowledge and bone fide qualifiications than the typical Mormon influencer—but they don’t shy away from recognizing a valid concern when it’s brought to their attention, which many former Mormons find surprising.
