In the turbulent aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, a powerful new force has emerged within American conservatism: the Christian "momfluencer." These women, leveraging social media platforms and personal narratives, are channelling maternal anxieties over health, education, and culture into a potent form of political engagement, effectively reshaping the landscape of the American right.
The Pandemic as a Catalyst for Change
The story of Taylor Moran is emblematic of this shift. Once a liberal Dallas mother who supported Bernie Sanders, the 34-year-old's worldview fractured during the pandemic. She described government responses as "a lot of rules, a lot of hysteria, a lot of things that didn’t make sense." In early 2021, a profound spiritual experience led her to embrace Christianity, prompting a move to rural Arkansas. Her growing faith was accompanied by deep skepticism towards the pharmaceutical industry, standardised school curricula, and contemporary views on gender.
Today, Moran's social media, while not overtly political, advocates for organic food, nature-based learning, and traditional boyhood. "I hear it’s hard to be a man right now — but I *know* it’s hard to be a boy," she posted in October 2024, showcasing her sons playing freely in the woods. Moran is part of a broader phenomenon where the pandemic eroded trust in institutions, creating a vacuum filled by influencers like Allie Beth Stuckey, Alex Clark, and Riley Gaines Barker.
Building Trust Through Lifestyle and Personal Testimony
These influencers expertly blend religious conviction, polished aesthetics, and relatable personal stories to build credibility. Allie Beth Stuckey, 33, hosts the hugely popular "Relatable" podcast, offering scripture-infused commentary. She noted that post-COVID, many Christian women felt isolated and afraid to speak their beliefs. "People really feared saying what they believed to be true, because they didn’t want to be canceled," Stuckey explained at her Share the Arrows conference.
For wellness influencer Alex Clark, 32, vaccine mandates were the turning point. Questioning official health advice led her to distrust government and medical establishments, a sentiment amplified by learning about the FDA's role in the opioid crisis. Clark now champions the Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) movement, criticising ultra-processed foods and food dyes to her over half a million Instagram followers. "If the government is lying to you about the food pyramid … you think that they don’t lie to you about other things?" she argues.
Personal experience is their currency. Former swimmer Riley Gaines Barker, 25, ties her activism against transgender athletes in women's sports directly to her 2022 race against Lia Thomas. Clark links her father's death to a diet of processed foods. This firsthand credibility, as noted by student activist Gwyn Andrews, 22, is key to their massive followings.
A Spiritual War with Tangible Political Consequences
The movement frames its activism as part of a broader spiritual conflict. Stuckey speaks of "demonic forces" in battles over abortion and gender ideology. Clark describes conventional farming as "deeply demonic," while Gaines Barker sees her work as part of a "spiritual awakening." This rhetoric translates into concrete political action. In 2024, Georgia and West Virginia passed "Riley Gaines" bills restricting transgender athletes' participation. At least 27 US states now have similar laws.
Politically, these influencers see themselves gaining ground. While exit polls didn't show a specific surge in Trump votes among mothers from 2020 to 2024, there was a rightward shift among women aged 18-29 and white evangelical women. Clark believes "MAHA moms are the most powerful political capital that the GOP has." Their influence is reflected in more emboldened rhetoric, with Clark calling hormonal birth control "poison" and Stuckey rejecting any inclusion of social justice themes in Christian conferences.
Critics like author Sara Petersen warn that dehumanising rhetoric can justify violent policies and legislation. However, for activists within the movement, this unapologetic stance is a sign of success. As conservative activist Payton McNabb, 20, stated, "I definitely do think it’s a culture war, and I think that we’re starting to get the upper hand finally." From kitchen tables to state legislatures, the Christian momfluencer movement is proving that, in today's America, the personal is profoundly political.
