Soul Dysmorphia

We curate our spiritual lives just as carefully as our Instagram feeds. We share our Bible reading victories but hide our doubts. We post about our acts of service while concealing our moments of selfishness. We present a highlight reel of faith, editing out our struggles, failures, and very human needs.

Walk into any church lobby on Sunday morning and you’ll witness soul dysmorphia in action. “How are you doing?” “Great! Blessed!” Even when inside we’re wrestling with depression, struggling in our marriage, or questioning God’s goodness in the midst of loss. We’ve learned to automatic smile, to give the “right” Christian answers, to project spiritual health even when our souls are gasping for air.

Consider how we pray in public versus private. In small groups, our prayers sound polished, theological, grateful. But alone in our cars or lying awake at 3 AM, our real prayers pour out: desperate, confused, sometimes angry. “God, where are you?” “Why won’t you fix this?” “I don’t understand what is happening.” Which prayer is more authentic? Which one do we think God prefers?

We’ve created what I call “performance Christianity” – a filtered version of faith that looks impressive but leaves us spiritually exhausted. We know the right words, the appropriate responses, the expected behaviors. But like those plastic surgery patients who no longer recognize their natural faces, we’ve lost touch with our natural souls.

This spiritual filtering creates a toxic cycle. We present an idealized version of our faith, then feel inadequate when we can’t live up to our own performance. We judge others based on their highlight reels while intimately knowing our own struggles. We become spiritual imposters in our own lives, strangers to our authentic selves.

This creates a spiritual dysmorphia – we become strangers to our own souls, inflating ourselves while looking down on others who don’t measure up to our airbrushed image.

This isn’t new. 2400 years ago Socrates warned: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” But in our filtered age, the problem has intensified. We’re not just avoiding self-examination – we’re actively creating false selves to examine instead.