By episode three of The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives’ second season, I had whiplash, emotional fatigue, and a growing sense that maybe Ketamine therapy isn't such a bad idea after all.
That’s because the TikTok-famous Mormon moms of Utah are back – and they’ve brought even more chaos, confessions, and the occasional deeply uncomfortable family barbecue to our screens. In case you missed season one, the show follows a group of young Mormon moms and influencers navigating life and viral fame in the messy aftermath of #MomTok founder Taylor Frankie Paul’s swinging scandal.
The season opens pretty much where the last one left off: with Taylor confronting her boyfriend and baby daddy Dakota Mortensen over past flirtations and their shaky relationship timeline. This ends with him getting booted from their shared home, which all feels like pretty standard drama. Until it’s not.
Enter Miranda McWhorter, the so-called soft-swinging spectre of MomTok past. For anyone who missed the 2022 scandal, “soft swinging” refers to the Mormon-friendly version of partner-swapping where apparently everything happens except the stuff that counts. Miranda, now a single mother, wants to jump back onto MomTok in the wake of its popularity.
Miranda’s return to the group sets off alarm bells, with the rest of the group grilling her about her motivations like it’s a suburban tribunal – equal parts school PTA meeting and ex-Mormon Reddit thread. But before she and Taylor can fully bury the hatchet, in walks Chase McWhorter: Miranda’s ex-husband, the man who confessed his love for Taylor, and, for good measure, a former flame ex of cast member Layla Taylor too.
The chaos peaks at a Halloween party hosted by Jessi Ngatikaura, the show's de facto drama conductor, where Chase, Miranda, Layla, Taylor and Dakota all end up under the same decorative spiderweb-covered roof. Jessi deserves a producer credit for her shameless instigation, and when the police are inevitably called as tensions boil over, she comically breaks the fourth wall to tell confused officers: “Have you watched Secret Lives of Mormon Wives? Okay, that would be the best way to describe it.”
In between the drama, chaos and Ketamine therapy (courtesy of Jen Affleck and husband Zach), the show does occasionally try to remind us it has a deeper purpose. There’s a lot of talk about breaking free from patriarchal structures and challenging the norms of the Latter Day Saints church. But let’s be honest: most of us are here for the TikTok beef and the over-sharing. The preachy undertones feel a bit like someone trying to slip kale into a dessert: noble, but we’d prefer the sugar.
Despite that, the show doesn’t shy away from darker, more vulnerable moments this season. One of the most uncomfortable and revealing comes during a family BBQ at Taylor’s house, when her mother invites Dakota over without telling her. What’s framed as a sweet reconciliation between the estranged couple, though, quickly turns sour.
Taylor ends up sobbing into her hands, calling herself “trash” as her stepfather all but blames her for Dakota’s behaviour, suggesting she brought it on herself by letting him stay over after just three dates.
“Then you’re sitting there telling me he came over and had sex with you? What does that say about you?” he asks – a question loaded with judgement and shame. It’s a raw, gut-punch of a moment that pulls the glossy TikTok-filtered mask off.
Then there’s Mikayla Matthews, the scene-stealing straight-talker with a chronic skin condition and a sharp wit. While her one-liners offer much-needed levity, it’s her candid admission about surviving childhood sexual abuse that hits hardest. There’s no dramatic music accompanying her reveal, no editing trickery, just honesty. In a show full of filters and facades, her vulnerability stands out.
Elsewhere, the social hierarchy begins to shift. Jen is suddenly on the outs after “speaking her truth” one too many times. Whitney Leavitt is somehow sneaking back into the group chat, and Demi Engemann is being forced to answer for allegedly getting too flirty with a cast member from Vanderpump Villa on their Italy trip. Nothing says “spiritual growth” like international drama and influencer allegations.
If you came here for Nara Smith or Ballerina Farm content, wholesome sourdough, and slow-living serenity, please leave immediately. These women are not trying to be aspirational. They are loud, chaotic, vulnerable, and very online. They overshare, overreact, and occasionally overdose (on drama not ketamine).
And yet, there’s something compelling beneath the mess. Season two doesn’t just continue the spectacle; it complicates it. In the end, Secret Lives of Mormon Wives is still wildly entertaining. But it’s also becoming something else: something occasionally profound. Which is more than I can say for most shows that feature police being called to a Chippendales-themed argument.
The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives season two is available to stream on Disney+ from May 15
