Latter-Day Saint Influencers at the Intersection of Faith, Motherhood and Neoliberalism

Abstract

In an attempt to summarise my Master’s thesis, this paper analyses the online presence of Latter-day Saint influencers. Using content analysis, I study the way they choose to depict their faith and their motherhood. This essay also examines the postfeminist nature of their discourse and narratives. I argue that being a social media influencer allows Latter-day Saint influencers who take part in this practice to conform to their Church’s doctrine, while also enabling them to navigate a cultural landscape permeated by neoliberalism.

Résumé

Inspiré par mon travail de master, cet article analyse la présence en ligne d’influenceuses membres de l’Église de Jésus-Christ des saints des derniers jours. Au moyen de l’analyse de contenu, je me propose d’étudier la manière dont ces influenceuses décident de représenter leur foi et leur maternité sur les réseaux sociaux et j’examine la nature postféministe de leurs discours. Cet article montre qu’être influenceuse permet à ces femmes d’incarner les valeurs et la doctrine de leur Église sur les réseaux sociaux mais également d’utiliser leur influence pour définir leur statut social et évoluer dans le contexte néolibéral actuel.

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Introduction

On 19 January 2024, influencer Hannah Neeleman – also known as @Ballerinafarm on social media – walked the stage of the Mrs World pageant just two weeks after giving birth to her eighth child. Departing from her usual traditional homemaking videos, the 34-year-old shared a series of photographs and clips from her pageant weekend, staging herself breastfeeding her daughter while being prepped by her team, posing on stage in a swimsuit, and glamorously strolling around the pageant venue to the tune of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good.” This display of a “postpartum like no other”, as she put it, occasioned much debate in her comment sections, ranging from admiration to disbelief: while some commenters asked for her secret recipe, others gloated that this post would make “feminists jealous”. Still others pointed out that Neeleman – despite idealising and aestheticising a return to a more domestic, pastoral lifestyle on social media – is in fact extremely wealthy and can benefit from any resource imaginable to recover from her delivery and navigate postpartum. The series of five posts totalled more than two million views and twenty thousand comments. ¹ It fuelled an already ongoing fascination with the “@Ballerinafarm” persona: a Julliard-trained ballerina turned rancher and business owner after marrying the heir to an aviation-industry businessman, who also happens to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. However, this fascination also ties into a wider and ever-growing popular culture and media fascination with Latter-day Saint influencers. ²

In this essay, I shall attempt to summarise my Master’s thesis, which examines three main aspects of the Latter-day Saint influencer phenomenon: their digital representation of religion, their depiction of motherhood and their discourses about labour and entrepreneurship. On the one hand, the thesis contains an analysis of the content of ten Latter-day Saint influencers’ social media accounts, up until the summer of 2024. On the other hand, the thesis also encompasses a mixed-method ethnographic study for which members of the Church were interviewed to understand their relationship to social media and influencers in their daily lives. ³

Here, I will concentrate on the content analysis of the social media accounts of three of the ten Latter-day Saint influencers studied in my thesis: Hannah Neeleman, whom I introduced earlier; Nara Smith, a 23-year-old model and mother of three, famous for her baking-from-scratch videos; and Jordan Page, a 38-year-old mother of eight known for her financial and organisational advice stemming from her own experience of getting out of debt. To simplify understanding, a typology was developed, and I classified the influencers into three categories. “Lifestyle influencers”, like Hannah Neeleman and Nara Smith, usually share content about their way of life and their family and are the least likely to mention their affiliation with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They might refer to it occasionally, but their faith is not the main focus of their content. ⁴ “Faith-centric influencers” place their faith at the centre of their online identity and share a great deal about it, whether through liturgical quotes or by showcasing how often they go to church. They might appeal to fewer followers because their content is centred specifically on the Mormon faith. ⁵ As for “business influencers,” such as Jordan Page, their content is centred on their personae as entrepreneurs and businesswomen, and they may also offer financial advice. ⁶

While the concept of momfluencing is a rather recent phenomenon, linked to the rise of social media and Instagram, mommy-blogging has been around for longer and significantly more scholarly work has been published on the topic. While scholarship has examined mommy-blogging or momfluencing, on the one hand, and Latter-day Saint women in businesses such as multi-level marketing companies on the other, few works have focused specifically on the phenomenon of Latter-day Saint influencers. ⁷ With my thesis, I aimed to begin filling this gap by studying Latter-day Saint influencers’ social media accounts, which I consider the successors of blogs.

Here, I argue that being a social media influencer allows Latter-day Saint women who take part in this practice to conform to their Church’s doctrine, while also enabling them to navigate a society and a cultural landscape permeated by neoliberal values. Thus, the first part of this article explores the gendered doctrines of the Church, which make Mormonism a religion conducive to influencing, especially for its female members. I analyse the various, more or less subtle, ways in which influencers digitally mediate their religion. I also draw on Media Studies professor Stig Hjarvard’s theory on the mediatisation of religion to claim that these representations contribute to a shift in religious authority and a change in the perception of Latter-day Saints in American culture. ⁸ The second part of the article draws from the works of Media and Cultural Studies scholar Lori Lopez and sociologist Andrea Hunter to assess the ambivalent and contradictory impact of these discourses. ⁹ To this end, I reflect on the ways Latter-day Saint influencers provide much-needed representations of Latter-day Saint motherhood and narratives in which women are the main characters, while also capitalising on curated, idealised and often highly conservative depictions of motherhood – sometimes at the expense of their followers. These portrayals of an embellished and somewhat unrealistic lifestyle may indeed fuel comparisons and set unattainable standards for their followers, who, at the same time, sustain these lifestyles by engaging with the influencers’ content. The last part of this article examines the phenomenon in light of sociologist Rosalind Gill’s definition of postfeminism as a gendered form of neoliberalism. ¹⁰ I highlight the neoliberal and postfeminist dynamics at play in the digital narratives, such as a drive for self-improvement and entrepreneurial spirit, a constant surveillance of the female body and an increased attention to sexual difference accompanied by a rhetoric of choice and empowerment. I also note that the neoliberal and postfeminist discourses of these influencers are infused with religion.

Displaying Faith Online: Mediated Representations of Latter-day Saints

Features of influencing, as a professional activity undertaken by women, strongly resonate with core tenets of Mormon theology. Regardless of gender, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints strongly encourages its members to carry out missionary work. While this proselytising may take the form of missions abroad, the Church also enjoins its members to share the Gospel both on- and offline, taking advantage of social media’s global reach. ¹¹ Both the in-depth faith discussions of faith-centric influencers and the blissful family pictures, the carefully curated cooking videos and the vlogs of idyllic vacations posted by lifestyle and business influencers can be considered missionary work. The Church’s doctrine also focuses on self-reliance and financial prosperity. Rooted in the belief that self-reliance helps members better concentrate on their faith, the Church offers guidance and support to those interested in developing sources of income, notably through social media. ¹² Finally, different spheres are allocated to men and women. On the one hand, men are endowed with the divine responsibility to carry the authority and power of God on Earth. ¹³ On the other hand, women’s responsibilities lie overwhelmingly in the care of others – especially of children and of the home – as explained on the “Women in the Church” page on the official website:

As a disciple of Jesus Christ, every woman in the Church is given the responsibility to know and defend the divine roles of women, which include that of wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend. […] They also have, by divine nature, the greater gift and responsibility for home and children and nurturing there and in other settings.

Overall, differences in access to leadership roles are explained by a belief that women and men have different yet complementary responsibilities in advancing the plans of God. Women are believed to be endowed with the ability to influence others and are granted institutional responsibilities accordingly. ¹⁴ The women studied in this paper are therefore both influencers on social media and embodiments of their Church’s doctrine of female influence. In this way, becoming an influencer meets the various expectations assigned to Latter-day Saint women by their religion. Influencing allows them to stay home and take care of children while proselytising and contributing to their household income.

Theorised by Media Sociologist Stig Hjarvard, mediatisation is a “process through which core elements of a social or cultural activity (for example, politics, teaching, religion and so on) assume media form.” ¹⁵ Latter-day Saint influencers all contribute to the mediatisation of their religion in their own way. While the content of faith-centric influencers is overwhelmingly religious and often testifies to their religiosity and their relationship with God, business influencers tend to use mediated religion to lend legitimacy to their commercial practices. ¹⁶ Lifestyle influencers mediatise their religion in a way close to what Hjarvard calls “banal religion.” In a 2016 article entitled “Mediatization and the Changing Authority of Religion” he describes “banal religion” as:

diffuse, less noticeable, yet pervasive circulation of religious imagery and practices in modern society. […] without any necessary or close connection to specific, organized forms of religion […] such religious imaginations and practices are fundamental for any kind of religion, and in modern, media-saturated societies, they have become important as the cultural backdrop for everyday understanding of what religion is. ¹⁷

I would argue that lifestyle influencers take banal religion a step further, into what could be defined as “subliminal religion.” Lifestyle influencers usually mediatise their religion in an extremely discreet way, to the point that some of their followers may remain unaware that they are Latter-day Saints. While Hannah Neeleman and Nara Smith have both explicitly stated their affiliation with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, their display of religion still happens through images rather than through words and can be deemed subliminal. For example, in her morning routine videos, Nara Smith stages herself waking up, choosing her outfit, waking her children up and cooking breakfast, much like any other content creator. Sometimes, among these classic scenes of domestic life, a clip of a book suddenly flashes for less than a second, offering a glimpse of her personal copy of The Book of Mormon. This image may be accompanied – or not – by a voiceover in which she mentions that as part of her routine she “does her scripture.” ¹⁸ This is a prime example of subliminal religion, as it is very difficult to stop the video at the right time to be able to read that the book is in fact religious scripture, so viewers might not realise that Smith is a Saint. Still, these few seconds contribute to an atmosphere in which religion is always in the background. It is not acknowledged or discussed in every video, but it is always present. ¹⁹

I insist on this idea of subliminal religion because, arguably, it is a significant factor in the success of Latter-day Saint influencers. By only ever sharing parts of their religious life with their followers, Latter-day Saint influencers preserve a sense of mystery and play on the century-long curiosity of American public opinion regarding the Latter-day Saints. ²⁰ Religious Studies Professor Jana Riess notes that, nowadays, popular culture seems to have shifted “from depicting Mormons as libidinous to portraying them as prudish.” ²¹ Riess also examines the success of Latter-day Saints in reality shows, such as Dancing With the Stars or American Idol, and attributes it in part to the non-member audience being impressed by the competitors’ “self-perpetuating stereotype of Mormons as friendly, helpful, and devoted to their faith.” ²² To some extent, influencers seem to have taken up the role of main providers of Latter-day Saint representations in popular culture. Their success could be attributed to their own self-perpetuation of these Latter-day Saint stereotypes. As such, the diversity of voices is important. While the influencers studied in this paper for the most part, embody traditional Mormon values, some of them also occasionally showcase behaviours that are not endorsed by the Church. For example, some of them have not always dressed modestly or have discussed their divorce on social media. Somehow, this freedom is positive for the Church because it allows the influencer’s audience to see the diversity of Latter-day Saints’ opinions and ways of life and frames the Church as embracing modernity. The influencers’ presence on social media also benefits the Church financially since members give ten percent of their income to the Church. ²³ Through an ever more aestheticised, attractive and inspiring feed which subliminally mediatises religion and builds on popular culture’s fascination for Latter-day Saints, influencers benefit from a strong engagement on social media – from which they earn money – while attracting potential new members. In both cases, the Church is made richer. This practice also benefits influencers who can earn religious authority through their platform. In fact, Hjarvard argued that mediatisation results in a shift of religious authority from institutions to individuals. ²⁴ Sociologists Mia Lövheim and Evelina Lundmark have reached similar conclusions to Hjarvard and noted that mediatisation is a way for women to build authority in digital spaces, adding that this authority comes from displays of authenticity. ²⁵

Representing Motherhood on Social Media

Using social media to depict religion is a way to cater to religious doctrine, but it also allows influencers to gain religious authority and to represent the diversity of Latter-day Saint voices, thus participating in a tradition of record keeping and archiving. History professor Tona Hangen argues that:

Common Mormon cultural practices involve processes of selection, repurposing, collage, and embellishment. Through scrapbooking, keeping of genealogy records, crafting, and (more recently) blogging, many Mormon women juxtapose disparate elements together with something much more than decorative purpose. ²⁶

Instagram accounts can therefore also be seen as an archive of Latter-day Saint motherhood representations. In her article “Mormon women and the problem of historical agency,” historian Catherine Brekus studies how historians have represented Latter-day Saint women from the 19th century to the 1970s. ²⁷ She notes: “like historians outside of Mormon studies, many specialists in Mormon history have also found difficult to imagine women as central characters in their narratives.” ²⁸ The representation of women and mothers is also lacking on a religious level: one of the participants interviewed for my thesis pointed out that very few iconographic representations of the Heavenly Mother exist. ²⁹ Members of the Church have recently expressed their dissatisfaction with the lack of discussion about the Heavenly Mother in the comments under the Church’s Instagram post for Mother’s day in 2024. ³⁰ Given these rare representations, the Instagram accounts of Latter-day Saint mothers appear to be a place where they are the main characters of a narrative that they have full control over, and, to some extent, help to remediate the lack of representation of their lives and experiences in media and culture.

However, although Latter-day Saint influencers may contribute to increasing the representation of women in digital spaces, their depiction of womanhood and motherhood often remains traditional, conservative and lacking in vulnerability and authenticity. ³¹ On the contrary, their content sometimes seems specifically curated to attract viewers, notably when they play on a tension: the ability to raise multiple young children while maintaining an impeccable home and an aestheticised self-image. This specific curation does not go unnoticed by their audience and generates frequent comparisons, as the comments under Hannah Neeleman’s series of pageant posts demonstrate:

• lucky her, 2 weeks post partum I was still hardly walking with emergency c section, […] how she does it. ³²
• I think Hannah is amazing…but for those who are comparing themselves to her, remember: she received the genetic gift of tall, slim, and blonde – this is like winning the lottery in many ways. She married in to very wealthy family. She is not struggling with housing, food, bills, or health. She is enjoying her blessings, and she is privileged with so many of them. ³³
• I just had a baby and there’s no amount of makeup that could take the tiredness out of my face! ³⁴

Arguably, these debates in the comments stem from Neeleman’s lack of transparency. She presents her content as her truth and never acknowledges that it may be staged or curated – leaving no room for vulnerability. As unrealistic as her content may appear to some, she maintains this performance on social media and rarely, if ever, breaks character, giving the audience the impression that there is a small chance it could be real. This gives the impression that she can do it all, that the “perfect mother” actually exists, and therefore fuels even more comparison. Neeleman also rarely, if ever, interacts with her community under her posts. These comments thus reveal that when the influencer lacks vulnerability and authenticity, the audience and commenters step in as the authenticity provider by sharing authentic, realistic experiences in response to the influencer’s sanitised image.

By favouring aesthetic, polished content over vulnerability and authenticity, influencers seem to be breaking away from their predecessors – the mommy-bloggers. In the article “The radical act of ‘mommy blogging’: redefining motherhood through the blogosphere,” Media and Cultural Studies scholar Lori Kido Lopez explains that mommy-bloggers appeared in the 1990s and quickly became a cultural phenomenon in the early 2000s. ³⁵ Lopez also presents mommy-blogging as a radical practice because it “challenges and reinterprets representations of motherhood […] building [community] in the classic oral tradition, harkening to a time when women shared stories between each other instead of relying on institutions or male experts for advice on childrearing.” ³⁶ Building on Lopez’s work, sociologist Andrea Hunter argued that the monetisation of blogs led to their depoliticisation and to the loss of their radical nature. ³⁷ Hunter claims that while early mommy-blogging was:

a transcendent, unifying experience, one that elevated everyday experience into a larger sense of community built through authentic storytelling, mommy-blogging has evolved into a largely commercial endeavor that commodifies the audience. ³⁸

In this light, the shift of platforms – from a personal blog that relied heavily on text to an overly visual social media platform like Instagram that facilitates collaborations between brands and influencers – seems to mirror the influencers’ loss of authenticity. ³⁹ Instagram influencers did not have – or had to a lesser extent than bloggers – to transition from ad-free to sponsored content. Instead, they have always had to deal with the tension between sanitised content to attract viewers and displays of authenticity to build their authority, choosing revenue-generating practices over ones that challenge the norms. By presenting a sanitised, idealised picture-perfect version of their daily lives in order to attract more viewers and earn more money, business and lifestyle Latter-day Saint influencers commodify their motherhood. In “’Of Woman Born’ to Mommy Blogged: The Journey from the Personal as Political to the Personal as Commodity,” sociologist Kara Van Cleaf attributes this capitalisation of motherhood experiences to neoliberalism: ⁴⁰

The radicalness of exposing the intimacies of motherhood, as Rich and 1970s feminists did, however, is stripped of its political force in a neoliberal milieu because there is no separate, private, nonmarket sphere – all intimate, inner experiences enter the market via digital platforms. ⁴¹

Van Cleaf’s mention of a neoliberal milieu stripping away the political force of mommy-blogging prompts further reflection on how Latter-day Saint influencers interact with the neoliberal context in which they operate.

Influencers as Agents of Neoliberalism and Postfeminism

Issues of capitalisation and financial revenue reveal a paradox for business and lifestyle influencers. They often describe themselves as “homemakers” and stage themselves – mostly at home – taking part in highly domestic activities, yet still earn a substantial income from their presence on social media. When they refer to themselves as business owners, it often relates to ventures outside of social media. They very rarely, if ever, acknowledge their social media presence as a revenue-generating professional activity. While it may be said that, by offering representations of domesticity to their audience, Latter-day Saint influencers contribute to making domestic labour performed by women more visible – which, according to sociologists Céline Bessière and Sibylle Gollac, is often rare:

What characterizes women’s labour is that it is made invisible, and it lacks legal or financial recognition […] Domestic labour is often performed by women within the family sphere. It is the epitome of free labour, and is never recognised as such. […] This data does not consider the piecemeal nature of women’s domestic and professional work schedules, which are constantly interrupted because they must stay available for others […] Men’s activities, whether professional or domestic […] are better defined in time and space. ⁴²

Latter-day Saint influencers also appear to reinforce what Bessière and Gollac highlight: a blurring of the boundaries between domestic and professional labour. The presence of children in their cooking videos is direct proof of the constant interruption of women’s work. Furthermore, framing childcare and home-tending as religious and natural predispositions prevents domestic labour from being recognised as such. Finally, some influencers frame both their professional activities (such as competing in pageants, writing books or blogging), and their domestic ones (cooking, milking cows) as hobbies, which contributes to the lack of recognition of their labour. Australian researcher Catherine Archer defines this practice as “playbour, a combination of play and labour” and notes in her article “Social media influencers, post-feminism and neoliberalism: How mum bloggers’ ‘playbour’ is reshaping public relations” that playbour “is derided (or at least reported in a slightly condescending tone) by mainstream media as indulgent and somehow not legitimate.” ⁴³ Overall, neither their domestic labour nor the professional labour these influencers provide on social media is recognised as such, reinforcing the neoliberal idea that the individual should be working constantly. ⁴⁴

As geographer Kean Birch puts it, neoliberalism is “an economic system in which the ‘free’ market is extended to every part of our public and personal worlds.” ⁴⁵ Through empirical research, Culture and Media professor Christina Scharff observed the different ways in which neoliberalism impacts individuals. She identified ten characteristics in those who live their life according to neoliberal principles, among them:

relating to themselves as if they were a business, embracing the risks like enterprises and considering knockbacks useful experience, rarely discussing wider social structures such as inequalities, transforming social critique into self-critique, competing with themselves and not just with others, drawing strong boundaries between ‘lazy’ and ‘deserving’ people. ⁴⁶

Latter-day Saint influencers seem to have embraced this neoliberal push for individuals to constantly improve and compete in the marketplace of life and, by extension, in the digital marketplace. When competing in the Mrs World pageant, Hannah Neeleman framed competition as both enjoyable and beneficial, something that “push[es] [her] to do better in all aspects of life.” ⁴⁷ Latter-day Saint influencers also promote self-improvement through their businesses. Jordan Page’s business is rooted in her clients’ wish to improve their finances, organisation and family life. She frames her own story of lifting her family out of bankruptcy as one of constant and unrelenting hard work and struggle for the best. She markets her setbacks as lessons, making her resulting experience and wisdom available at a cost:

My favorite part is that our journey has no end. There is no “endpoint” to frugality. It’s an ever-changing, always-evolving lifestyle that keeps you on your toes and teaches you how to be truly, undeniably, incomparably, unapologetically HAPPY. ⁴⁸

What is also distinctly neoliberal about Page is that, in response to issues such as maternal stress or financial difficulties, she offers solutions that focus on the individual and on consumption. She sells planners, online parenting courses to “raise capable kids” and meal plans, and shares advice for fighting procrastination. Overall, all these solutions focus on individual action and motivation. She never references political actions or measures that might address systemic inequality, financial instability, or the unequal gender distribution of domestic labour.

In 2007, sociologist Rosalind Gill defined postfeminism as “a distinctive kind of gendered neoliberalism,” and highlighted a few characteristics of what she calls “postfeminist sensibility:”

the notion of femininity as a bodily property; the shift from objectification to subjectification; an emphasis upon self-surveillance, monitoring and self-discipline; a focus on individualism, choice and empowerment; the dominance of a makeover paradigm; and a resurgence of ideas about natural sexual differences. ⁴⁹

In 2017, Gill reevaluated her 2007 definition and argued that these elements had by then become hegemonic in cultural life. ⁵⁰ Latter-day Saint influencers do not escape this hegemony, as the neoliberal discourses they produce are both created by and primarily directed at women. As such, their bodies – particularly during pregnancy – are under constant surveillance and monitoring. This is due in part to their occupation: as influencers, they subject themselves – more or less consciously – to external scrutiny, as their bodies appear in almost all of the content they post. ⁵¹ Influencers like Neeleman and Smith provide further examples of postfeminist content when they represent themselves and their family in traditional gender roles, reinforcing postfeminist discourses about natural sexual differences. ⁵² Up until the summer of 2024, Neeleman overwhelmingly depicted herself indoors or in her kitchen. When she appeared outside or on the ranch, it was primarily to complete tasks linked to cooking from scratch, like milking cows or collecting her hens’ eggs. By contrast, her husband was often depicted outside – on the farm, riding horses or in the gym. ⁵³ What may be most strikingly postfeminist about Latter-day Saint influencers’ content, however, is the juxtaposition of highly conventional and domestic practices like cooking from scratch, childcaring and home-making with discourses of choice and empowerment. On Neeleman’s business website Ballerina Farm, the “Our Story” page exemplifies this juxtaposition. ⁵⁴ In this text, Neeleman frames her highly traditional and domestic vision of life and motherhood as empowering and highlights her achievements. She says: “I would go down in school history as the first undergraduate ballerina to be a mother. He wasn’t an accident. We were ready. Motherhood was my new dream.” ⁵⁵ In this short autobiography, Neeleman brands herself as someone who was raised in a family of entrepreneurs and for whom starting a business and working hard comes naturally. Similarly to Page’s self-branding, Neeleman presents her success as the result of her and her husband’s hard work to pursue their dream. However, both Neeleman’s and Page’s neoliberal success stories are infused with religious overtones. For example, Neeleman mentions: “So we left it in God’s hands. […] God was guiding me, as He always had.” ⁵⁶ Similarly, Jordan Page frames her financial trials as a test from God: “We felt led by God and excited for the new adventure. […] Defeated and penniless, we wondered why God would lead us to do something so devastating.” ⁵⁷ Their success is presented partly as a result of their personal work but mostly as the sign of God’s will and intervention. The neoliberal discourses relayed by Latter-day Saint influencers are infused with religion and postfeminist ideals, both of which shape their online identities as believers, mothers and influencers.

Conclusion

Overall, this paper shows that being an influencer allows Latter-day Saint women to fulfil the expectations placed on them by their Church’s religious doctrine. They are able to care for their children, contribute to household finances and make good use of their influence – quite literally – to proselytise. Additionally, most of them usually choose to portray an aestheticized and idealised version of motherhood, which can be more easily monetised than depictions focused on vulnerability and authenticity. They also combine these representations with neoliberal and postfeminist discourses on meritocracy and female empowerment but with specific religious undertones.

One must bear in mind, however, that the influencers studied in this paper are only a small sample and are not representative of the diversity of Latter-day Saint influencers or opinions on social media. Similarly, these influencers – particularly lifestyle and business influencers – do not accurately reflect the daily lived experience of most members of the Church, nor does their content overwhelmingly appeal to the members of the Church. In fact, the qualitative interviews conducted for my thesis revealed that participants preferred to follow influencers who enhanced their religious life and reflection, rather than lifestyle or business influencers, who made them feel indifferent or even wary.

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Pour citer cet article

Sibylle Marin, Latter-Day Saint Influencers at the Intersection of Faith, Motherhood and Neoliberalism, ©2025 Quaderna, mis en ligne le 17 juin 2025, url permanente : https://quaderna.org/7/latter-day-saint-influencers-at-the-intersection-of-faith-motherhood-and-neoliberalism/