LOS ANGELES (AP) — Until quite recently, the prevailing image to outsiders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has been male missionaries wearing white shirts and name tags, evoked by the hit Broadway show “The Book of Mormon.”
But another unofficial face of the male-led church has emerged in American pop culture: digitally savvy, female influencers, often seen sporting athleisure, a giant soda in hand — and varying degrees of adherence to church teachings.
These influencers have found an enthusiastic audience across the country, curious about their faith and families. Some explain the tenets of what's widely known as the Mormon church, but others bring attention to the rules they often break — drinking alcohol, having premarital sex and in one high-profile instance, a “soft-swinging” scandal that birthed the hugely popular Hulu reality series, “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.”
ABC sought to capitalize on that interest by casting “Mormon Wives” star Taylor Frankie Paul in “The Bachelorette,” but recently had to scuttle the already filmed season after a video of a domestic violence incident surfaced.
These viral moments and “Mormon Wives” project a version of the faith that appears more progressive and lenient than church leadership and other Latter-day Saint influencers might like. “The internet really challenged the church’s ability to maintain its own narratives about itself,” said Nancy Ross, an associate professor at Utah Tech University who studies Mormon feminism.
The church has worked to distance itself from “Mormon Wives,” issuing a statement ahead of the first season’s premiere in 2024 without naming the show specifically. It said that some media portrayals of Latter-day Saint women resort to “stereotypes or gross misrepresentations that are in poor taste and have real-life consequences for people of faith.”
Camille N. Johnson, the president of the church’s Relief Society organization for women, said in an emailed statement that it’s important to seek out trusted sources of information about the church and its members in light of recent media attention.
“Millions of Latter-day Saint women around the world strive to live faith-filled lives grounded in a love for God and all of His children,” she said.
It would be impossible for the “Mormon Wives” cast to fully represent millions of women in the church. But they are not the only Latter-day Saint influencers online — nor are they the only ones with large followings.
Many are women in their early twenties who are married with young children. They post about young motherhood and experiences like buying a house before they turn 25. Lauren Yarro, a Latter-day Saint content creator and podcast host, said she can see this being a foreign image to some.
“Our culture is fascinating to an outsider, and I can understand why it would pull people in,” she said. “That Mormon timeline is intriguing to the rest of the world. I think most people innately have a desire for a happy marriage and a happy family life and we tend to create those in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
The beliefs and practices of church members have often been the subject of intense interest and scrutiny because of how they differ from other religions. Some of these include the belief that church leadership can receive revelations from God, or the practice of wearing garments under clothing that have deep religious significance.
Latter-day Saint influencers are not a new phenomenon, but they have found staying power by driving pop culture discourse and documenting their lifestyles. Many of them use content creation as a way to be stay-at-home parents while also generating income for their families. Several prominent creators live in Utah, the home of the church’s administrative and cultural hub, but there is a broad spectrum in terms of how much they bring their faith into their content.
While “Mormon Wives” and its controversial star, Paul, have been the recent high-profile drivers of public interest, the cast talks about the church only sparingly. Rosemary Avance, an assistant professor at Oklahoma State University whose research includes religious identity and digital media, said “there’s so little reference” to the cast's faith once people are hooked on the show from its title. Many cast members have left the church or are no longer active in it.
“It was clearly a marketing strategy on behalf of the people putting these shows together. They think that’ll draw people in, and it does,” she said. “It’s not like you have these women sitting down talking about their secret temple practices that they’re not supposed to speak about, or challenging the authority of the church in some way. They’re just not talking about it.”
Avance sees parallels between now and about 15 years ago, when Republican Mitt Romney was running for president and “The Book of Mormon” debuted on Broadway. At the time, people wanted to know “what’s going on behind the scenes in Mormonism,” she said.
“People think they know a lot about it (Mormonism), and they’ve heard a lot about it because there’s prominent stories and prominent people who are well-known and those narratives are circulated, but it’s almost always second-, third-hand,” she said. “A lot of people don’t know any Mormons and may never meet a Mormon, or if they have, they don’t know it, and so it’s what you’ve heard and the preconceptions you think you have about Mormonism.”
Creators like Yarro, who speak about their faith openly online and closely follow the church's teachings, said “Mormon Wives” does not feel representative of their experiences in the church or their lives in Utah. The Latter-day Saint content creators who spoke with The Associated Press emphasized they don't place fault on the individual cast members, but rather the production of the show and the way it Hollywoodizes their faith. Representatives for Hulu did not respond to a request for comment.
“The only thing I don’t like about what they do is sometimes they will play on things, twist things, use what is sacred to us as members of the church, and they’ll put it out and it feels like mockery to us,” said Shayla Egan, another Latter-day Saint content creator.
Some of the more devout members use their online platforms to respond to and course-correct more salacious social media content or “Mormon Wives” storylines they believe don't align with their understanding of church teachings or experiences.
Mimi Bascom, a Latter-day Saint content creator who says the mission behind her social media presence is to “show that members of the church are real people,” often makes videos responding to “Mormon Wives” clips. She finds the show to be a “net positive for our church” since it gives everyday members the opportunity to “share what we actually believe and get that more out there into the world,” she said.
Bascom, for one, had always prepared to serve on a mission but no longer could after getting married. Making content about the church has felt like a way she's “able to still live that out,” she said.
“We want to be missionaries and spread the good word of the Gospel,” she continued, “and so this is just another way we can do it.”
Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.
FILE - The sun sets behind the Mormon Temple, the centerpiece of Temple Square, in Salt Lake City, April 27, 2006. (AP Photo/Douglas C. Pizac, File)
FILE - Jen Affleck, from left, Layla Taylor, Miranda McWhorter, and Jessi Draper Ngatikaura participate in Hulu's "The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives" photo call at The Rink at Rockefeller Plaza, Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2025, in New York. (Photo by CJ Rivera/Invision/AP, File)
NEW YORK (AP) — On a recent weeknight, three tenants of an aging Bronx building were trading apartment horror stories inside a packed ballroom lined with city bureaucrats.
The occasion was the third in a series of “rental rip-off hearings,” a new forum launched by New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani for disgruntled renters to air their complaints directly to housing officials — and in some cases, the mayor himself.
As she waited in line, Gulhayo Yuldosheva said she worried that noxious mold in her apartment had worsened her child’s asthma. Nearby, her downstairs neighbor, Marina Quiroz, was showing a video of rats scurrying through her kitchen to a representative of the city’s tenant protection office.
Ann Maitin, a longtime resident of the same building, had just met with the mayor.
“He let me go over my three minutes,” she said, holding up a spiral notebook’s worth of grievances.
Mamdani, a democratic socialist swept into office on a promise of zealous tenant advocacy, framed the event as a struggle session for renters, assuring the standing room only crowd that their stories would guide the city's efforts “to actually hold landlords accountable when they don’t follow the law."
To the residents of 705 Gerard Avenue, this raised a practical problem: No one seemed to know who actually owned their building.
“It feels like such a basic question,” said Maitin, a retired Verizon technician who recently organized the building’s tenant association. “You’d think we’d have the right to that information.”
Their situation is hardly unique. As corporate owners and investor groups have grown their share of the rental market in New York City, they are increasingly shielding their identities behind limited liability companies, or LLCs.
The practice, which has also been spreading nationally, is legal. But experts warn it could complicate Mamdani’s promised crackdown, making it harder for the city and tenants to track the chronically negligent owners whose buildings the mayor has vowed to target and even seize.
“There are these big slumlords that everyone knows are doing predatory investment, but pinning them down is going to be difficult, for the LLC reason,” said Oksana Mironova, a housing policy analyst at the Community Service Society. “That’s a problem for the administration, and it’s even worse for tenants.”
For Yuldosheva and her neighbors, finding their landlord is one of many problems afflicting their six-story building near Yankee Stadium.
Heat and hot water outages are regular enough that some tenants keep a thermometer on their fridge and the city’s complaint hotline on speed dial. Common areas are often filthy, and increasingly populated by drug users. Getting help with an urgent maintenance issue “feels like waiting for Christmas in July,” said Maitin.
During a monthslong elevator outage, a tenant who uses a wheelchair, Tommy Rodriguez, said he was forced to “slide down the steps, like a kid.” Calls to the building management about a repair timeline went unanswered, he said.
Growing up in the building in the 1980s, Rodriguez recalled the previous landlord as a friendly and responsive neighborhood presence.
“This felt like a home before,” Rodriguez said. “Now they treat us the same as the rats.”
A large rodent had recently chewed a hole through his couch cushion. He handled the extermination himself, with a two-by-four.
Recently, tenants received a clue about their landlord, following the partial collapse of another Bronx building. The man identified in news stories as the owner of that building, David Kleiner, shared a Brooklyn office with their building manager, Binyomin Herzl.
A handful of tenants visited each of the building’s 72 units, logging an array of decrepit conditions and unusual alterations.
“We didn’t want to become the next news story,” said Yuldosheva, pointing to a crack in the wall of a bedroom shared by her three children — a result, she feared, of the subway that rumbles just below her windows.
Lawsuits show that Herzl has been ordered to pay more than $100,000 for violations across at least six Bronx buildings, several of which were found by a judge to pose an imminent hazard.
Reached by phone, Herzl said he didn't own any of those properties, but simply acted as a middleman between tenants and the true owners, whom he declined to list. “There’s no one landlord,” he said. “It’s a group of investors.”
Kleiner, who was previously featured on the city’s “worst landlord” list, confirmed his partial ownership of 705 Gerard in a brief phone call, but declined further comment.
Herzl, meanwhile, attributed the tenants’ complaints to “normal wear and tear” of a nearly century old building. He said Mamdani should focus on improving the city’s public housing, rather than going after private landlords.
“Our buildings look like five star hotels against his,” he added.
When landlords refuse to address a serious violation, like heat or hot water outages, the city can step in and order repairs, then bill the owner directly.
In the last three years, inspectors have ordered emergency repairs at 38 buildings that list either Herzl or Kleiner as an owner, according to records provided by the city’s housing department. The men have been billed $446,521 for those repairs.
Mamdani has proposed using such fines as a vehicle to bring distressed rental properties under city stewardship, by aggressively pursuing liens on delinquent landlords and buying up their portfolios through foreclosure auctions.
Just as the city can shut down unsanitary restaurants, Mamdani has said, landlords that “repeatedly put New Yorkers at risk will not be allowed to operate in New York City — with no exceptions."
In reality, the process is resource-intensive and legally fraught. It is made more complex by the nest of LLCs often used by landlords to obfuscate the full scope of their portfolios, according to Cea Weaver, director of the Mayor’s Office to Protect Tenants.
“It’d be great to have a better sense of who owns the buildings that we are regulating and overseeing,” she said.
State legislation that would have made it easier to identify LLC owners was recently vetoed by New York Gov. Kathy Hochul amid pressure from landlords.
Kenny Burgos, the CEO of the New York Apartment Association, a landlord lobbying group, said Mamdani’s tenant proposals — including freezing the rent for regulated tenants — would force landlords to cut back on maintenance and services.
“That’s going to take away from the elevator budget, the boiler budget, the heating budget,” he said. “It’s a question of math: These buildings are crumbling because of policy, not because of bad landlords.”
He characterized the rental rip-off hearings as “show trials” that took a “tribal approach” to the city’s affordable housing crisis.
Despite the combative branding — “New Yorkers vs. Bad Landlords,” blares one promotion — the Bronx event mostly resembled a standard constituent service night: City officials fielded questions about local laws, helped residents with paperwork and connected them to service providers.
Maitin left feeling “glad to be heard by someone who can actually do something about the problem,” but felt it was too early to tell “if it’s all talk."
The next morning, she was surprised to find the building’s superintendent applying a fresh coat of paint to a staircase. Outside, workers were removing scaffolding that had been in front of the building for years.
“I think they caught wind of the rental rip-off,” Maitin said. “They’re scared.”
FILE - New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani speaks to reporters during a news conference in New York, Tuesday, Feb. 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Seth Wenig, File)
FILE - New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani speaks during a Rental Ripoff Hearing at Fordham University on Wednesday, March 11, 2026, in New York. (AP Photo/Andres Kudacki, File)
Gulhayo Yuldosheva's children get ready for school in an apartment building where tenants report maintenance issues and pest infestations, in the Bronx borough of New York, Tuesday, March 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Andres Kudacki)
Francisco Medina, left, cleans his apartment next to his relative, Maria Frias, right, in an apartment building where tenants report maintenance issues and pest infestations, in the Bronx borough of New York, Tuesday, March 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Andres Kudacki)
Gulhayo Yuldosheva, 33 , center right, Marina Quiroz, 65, top, pose for a portrait with other two residents in an apartment building where tenants report maintenance issues and pest infestations, in the Bronx borough of New York, Tuesday, March 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Andres Kudacki)
Tommy Rodriguez, right, talks to his relative, Francisco Medina, left, in an apartment building where tenants report maintenance issues and pest infestations, in the Bronx borough of New York, Tuesday, March 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Andres Kudacki)
Marina Quiroz stands in her living room in a Bronx apartment building, where tenants report maintenance issues, pest infestations, Tuesday, March 17, 2026, in New York. (AP Photo/Andres Kudacki)
