I hate the word “influencer,” even though some people would probably use it to describe me.
Yes, I have a social media platform, a podcast, this blog, an email list, and an LLC, all things that belong on an influencer’s resume, but I still cringe at the thought of being labeled as such. While I have briefly addressed my concerns on Instagram in the past, today, I will attempt to thoroughly unpack my complicated relationship with this label and everything it implies.
Deep breath…
I have been creating online content for over 12 years now. In that time, I have seen massive changes in how content is created, delivered, and consumed. Social media has been at the forefront of this change, with regular people posting engaging content that attracts new followers, propelling the most successful into celebrity status.
But when popularity mixes with faith, things can get messy in a hurry.
I have witnessed it too many times – faithful influencers gaining popularity and the trust of their equally faithful followers before losing their faith. Admittedly, a faith crisis is a tricky thing to navigate on a public stage. But when faith-promoting content becomes faith-questioning or even faith-destroying, it is bound to affect the faith of at least some of that influencer’s trusting followers.
A few years ago, I grew to trust a Latter-day Saint creator who beautifully blended the gospel and self-help principles in a way I had never heard before. While she was not very active on social media, her podcasts were truly life-changing for me. I marveled at her wisdom and wanted to learn everything I could from her.
So I joined the group coaching program she created specifically for Latter-day Saint women, and it truly transformed my life. She taught me to apply principles of mind, body, and spirit in a gospel-centered way, which brought me from sheer overwhelm to a place where I felt strong enough to serve others.
But, toward the end of the nine-month program, something started to feel “off,” and I could not put my finger on it. Her words were still in line with gospel teachings, but it felt like there might be something going on behind the scenes.
So, for months, even after the program was over, I watched her, hoping my gut was wrong. But sure enough, the truth eventually surfaced in a podcast in which she used a story from the Book of Mormon to justify her decision to leave the Church. It felt like an invitation to follow her off the straight and narrow path into the wide and spacious field to which she felt drawn.
She skillfully wove a tapestry of both truth and deception in a way that made it feel as if it might all be true. And because I had previously shared her podcast with several friends, some of them reached out to me asking, “Do you think what she said in her most recent podcast was true?”
My answer to that question was a resounding NO, but it was SO very convincing.
Why would she use the Book of Mormon to announce and even justify her decision to leave the Church when she no longer believed it was true, if not to convince her Latter-day Saint audience of the validity of her choice? Or even to persuade some to join her on the “other side?” And how could that not affect the faith of at least some of the women who had grown to trust her spiritual guidance?
Watching this play out did not shake my faith, but it did cause me to reflect deeply on the role of faith-based influencers and the dangers they can pose. Even the most faithful can fall, as evidenced by this story and others I have seen firsthand in my time as an online creator. I have also witnessed faithful creators who actively attend church (and who have MASSIVE numbers of followers) share things that subtly contradict prophets, doctrine, etc, throwing mud into already murky water.
Knowing this, is following faith-based influencers ever a good idea? And, if not, why am I even part of this world? (Cue The Little Mermaid soundtrack)
These are questions I often wrestle with because I would NEVER send anyone to social media to build their faith. I have seen too much sophistry.
(Definition of sophistry according to the Cambridge dictionary: the clever use of arguments that seem true but are really false, in order to deceive people.)
Yes, there are creators using their influence to lead people to Jesus Christ. I try to be one of them, and I cannot deny that the Lord called me to share my testimony on social media. (More about that in this post)
But, always in the back of my mind, I am screaming: “I don’t want you to follow me! I want you to follow Jesus Christ. I want you to follow the prophets. I want you to close this app right now, open your scriptures, or go to the temple. That is where you will build a relationship with the Lord. Not here. Not on Instagram!”
To lead people to Jesus on a platform like Instagram requires getting their attention amid a million other creators and companies competing for their attention. Doing so feels like saying, “Stop your scrolling and look at ME! I am worth your time!”
And that feels like exactly the opposite of what I really want to say: “Don’t look at me. Look at Jesus.”
It is very easy to let pride get in the way when pointing people to Him, when it begins with getting them to pay attention to me. And I don’t really want them to follow any Latter-day Saint influencers because I have seen too many leave the Church and take some of their followers along for the ride, so why would I want them to follow me?
It is so very messy in my mind.
But, on the other hand, in the four years since I began this faith-based social media work, I have seen critics of the Church (many of them former members) wreak havoc on people’s faith online. If all the faithful creators were to leave social media because of the dumpster fire it has become, how much more damage could the critics do?
Despite its risks, Elder Bednar has repeatedly called on us to flood social media with messages of light and goodness. His original invitation came in 2014 in a BYU Speech entitled “Sweep the Earth as With a Flood.” And despite the increased online hostility toward the Church (which has surely convinced some people to leave the safety of the fold), he renewed his invitation in 2024, saying that we are not keeping pace with the evolution of social media and need to do more.
Clearly, we need faithful members sharing the gospel to counter the growing opposition and to continue to “sweep the earth as with a flood” in preparation for the Second Coming.
Social media makes it possible for messages about Christ to circle the globe with a single click. I have seen my own testimony, shared on Instagram, making the rounds across India, which is not even a Christian country.
I know because of firsthand experience that, while Satan is having a heyday destroying faith on social media, God is also using it to build His kingdom. The good is growing alongside the bad, and the Lord needs people on his social media team. Their testimonies are tools of His gathering.
But the waters are treacherous for creator and consumer alike.
If we are going to spend time on social media, we MUST be discerning and able to spot cleverly-cloaked deception and wolves in sheep’s clothing. Perhaps that is at least one reason why President Nelson warned us that it will “not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting, and constant influence of the Holy Ghost.”
To have the influence of the Holy Ghost, we must build and strengthen our testimonies outside of social media by spending time on our knees, in the scriptures, at the temple, and through LIVING His gospel.
We can definitely learn from or be entertained by influencers, but trusting them with our faith is dangerous business.
Jesus is the ultimate influencer. And, while I am trying to point people to Him, I don’t want to get in the way. I want people to see Him, not me. I don’t want to compete with Him for people’s (very limited) attention.
The word influencer carries so much baggage for me, and is not a title that aligns with the goals I have for my platform or the experiences I have had in this online world.
I don’t want to be known as an influencer, but a window to Him.
Is that too much to ask?
**Read the rest of this journaling series here.
