I have a number of friends who don’t come to church, because “everyone there is so perfect.” I remember writing about this hilarious and erroneous conclusion a couple of years ago. You couldn’t hire a Madison Avenue expert to create a better façade.
We all know we are flawed—often greatly flawed—people, but onlookers sometimes see us in suits and ties, dresses and makeup, with a “perfect little family” in tow, and assume they can’t possibly fit in.
I’ve told my friends we are far from perfect. But my friends who are without a mate have said everyone there is with someone and it makes them feel bad. I tell them there are more divorced, widowed, or never married women in our church than otherwise, but they only see the ones who are attached.
As a teenager I once babysat for one of the “perfect little families,” and believe me: Those kids are not perfect. One tied another one up with a jump rope, and a third one screamed so loud in a fourth one’s ear that I’ll bet that kid has hearing problems to this day. The parents came home having a major shouting match over something, and there isn’t a person alive who would say, “Now there’s the perfect family.”
And this is the key: If you stop coming to church, you’ll never get to really know these people. They will forever remain in your fantasy with perfectly ironed clothing, combed hair, and gentle words.
The idea is to push through your envy and get a reality check. Make friends. Go to lunch with them. Visit their homes. Have “true friend” conversations. You’ll learn their fears and faults, see that everyone cries sometimes, and you’ll be there to serve and help them when they need someone to lean on.
Getting to know people always reveals truth. And it connects us. I have close friends whose problems I share! And ones who I know so well I can see in their eyes if they’ve been crying all night and they need a hug. I know their in-law problems, the two drunken uncles who shows up wanting to borrow money, the sister who always tries to outdo them, the neighbor who sends them anti material. I also know the cowlick they hate and can’t keep combed flat, the sweater that’s missing a button but it’s so cute they wear it anyway, their favorite dessert, their bunions, their dad who burps through dinner.
And they know my need to write everything in my calendar lest I forget the entire day’s schedule, how I always put ice cubes in my soup to cool it down, that my breast cancer a few years ago means I have to wear a compression sleeve, that I hiss, “Are you kidding me?” when I turn over a big price tag, that I have to buy shoes with good arch support—in short, it’s like we’ve become family.
This is why bishops say they can look out over the congregation and see “pain in every pew.”
AND… the same thing goes for comparisons we make on social media. Stop thinking people are as gorgeous as the photos they’ve monkeyed with. Stop thinking they have a better, easier life. You know they only post the good stuff. Learn to say, “Are you kidding me?”
Envy is one of the Seven Deadly Sins for a reason. We think it’s because it makes us hate others. But guess what? It makes us hate ourselves! We feel disappointed in ourselves. Less than. Unworthy. And that is far worse than being judgmental about someone else.
Only Jesus Christ was perfect. They rest of us could be dumped into a giant barrel, compare notes, and see that we’re all pretty much the same.
Give yourself a gift: Stop assuming perfection of anyone. Just remind yourself that these are people you haven’t truly gotten to know, yet. They’re children of God, our brothers and sisters, and lots of them used to pull each other’s hair. Come back to church. Open your heart. Make friends and enlarge your family. You’ll find laughter, tears, and inspiration. I promise.
Perfect for Mother’s Day, Hilton’s LDS novel, Golden, is available in paperback and on Kindle. All her books and hundreds of YouTube Mom videos can be found on her website.
Rochelle HaleApril 17, 2026
I don't pretend to understand the perspective of others, but I do know that Church was the place I wanted to be when I endured some serious challenges or even felt out of place (divorced, single mom, stepmother, etc.). I have used this quote many, many times in the last few weeks. Elder Clark Gilbert quoted Russell M. Nelson at Conference, "The truth is that it is much more exhausting to seek happiness where you can never find it." A story circulated awhile back about a family who was ostracized because of a sick daughter (not contagious). After much contemplation, the father informed the family that they were going back to church. It was their church also, they knew Heavenly Father wanted them to be there, and they were going to hold their heads up high and strive to do all He wanted them to do
GingerApril 17, 2026
Envy is one small reason yes. But you have a larger audience that deals with daily trauma. That is a bigger problem. Trauma makes going to church with the people you just described, painfully unrelatable. They live in a different reality, with different experiences and perspectives. They tend to be narrow-minded, who could learn a lot from the folks who have PTSD, if they choose to see them for who they are and what they have experienced, instead of focusing on their own worldly pursuits.