Our Story
Meet Your Hosts
Hannah and Jess met in a coaching certification program, paired as practice partners. During what should have been professional development, the conversation took an unexpected turn: they'd both grown up Mormon, and they'd both left.
What started as cautious sharing quickly became hours-long conversations comparing notes on the surreal experience of Mormon childhood—the bizarre cultural quirks, the doctrinal whiplash, the exhausting performance of being "representatives of the one true church."
The Lightbulb Moment
Hannah's podcast idea sparked while learning about Mormon true crime cases. She was frustrated by coverage that treated these incidents as isolated events when she could see clear patterns: the pressure cooker of perfectionism, the culture prioritizing appearance over authenticity, the way emphasis on obedience creates perfect conditions for manipulation.
"I want to start a podcast that actually connects the dots," Hannah told Jess. "Not just 'here's what happened,' but 'here's why it keeps happening.'"
Jess was immediately hooked. Together, they realized they could offer something missing: deep analysis of how Mormon systems enable dysfunction, told by people who understand the culture from the inside.
Our Mission
Post-Mormon Postmortem exists to examine the beliefs, culture, and systems that shaped us—dissecting what was toxic, absurd, and genuinely harmful. We're building community for anyone who's felt alone in their journey toward authenticity.
Whether we're analyzing true crime, unpacking religious trauma, or marveling at Mormon cultural artifacts, our goal is the same: helping people feel less isolated as they reclaim their lives after high-control religion.
"Sorry for What We Said When We Were Mormon"
This became our unofficial motto because it captures the Mormon experience perfectly. When you're raised believing you belong to "the one and only true church," everyone else becomes inferior. When your salvation depends on perfect obedience, you start viewing others through the lens of spiritual superiority.
We both remember the cringe-worthy judgment disguised as concern, the casual dismissal of others' spiritual experiences, the smug certainty that came with believing we had a monopoly on truth.
This phrase is our apology, recognition, and invitation: we've all caused harm when operating from fear and false certainty. We can do better now that we know better.
About Hannah Professional ruiner of family group chats
Hannah was born in the covenant to goodly parents in England—middle child of five, all blessed with biblical names and raised in peak Mormon dysfunction. With dad working for Church Educational System and mum as devoted homemaker, Hannah had front-row seats to faithful devotion.
She worked extremely hard as a child to gain a testimony, to no avail. Despite her best efforts to gaslight herself into believing, she couldn't shake the feeling it was all performance. What she did inherit was crushing anxiety about the Second Coming, when Jesus would return mad and smite the wicked—which surely included her.
At 17, Hannah ran away to the Promised Land of Layton, Utah with a pocket full of Adverse Childhood Experiences and zero clue what she was getting into. What followed: an 18-year marriage, three amazing kids, leaving the church, homes across multiple states and countries, two divorces, and finally—self-love through commitment to therapy and healing.
Now Hannah co-hosts this podcast and co-founded Fearless Path Coaching, helping women break generational cycles and heal family dysfunction. She's living proof you can leave the church, heal your trauma, and still turn out decent.
About Jess Proof that leaving doesn't mean losing the ability to judge everyone silently
.Jess was born in Ogden, Utah—one of six children—and raised in the Salt Lake Temple's shadow where money was tight and expectations were high. She started side-eyeing the Mormon Church in her early teens thanks to major red flags: rigid gender roles, pay-to-play tithing, and the deeply weird practice of baptisms for the dead. Despite growing doubts, she dutifully spent four years as seminary carpool driver, ferrying teenagers to early morning scripture study while secretly questioning everything they were being taught. She witnessed firsthand how the Church demanded everything while delivering hollow promises. Jess officially removed her name in 2000 and laughed out loud when told she wouldn't be allowed into the Celestial Kingdom. (Their loss, honestly.)
After 25+ years in corporate leadership, she became a Certified Professional Coach and co-founded Fearless Path, helping women reclaim their power and rewrite their stories.
When she's not judging everyone silently (old habits die hard), she's drinking coffee without guilt, hiking, snowboarding, or living her best apostate life.
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We know that it's through the fellowship of the saints—and our shared trauma from three-hour church blocks—that we find the strength to keep showing up every Monday.