In 2007, I made a life-changing decision that took less time than it does to microwave a meal. With a single phone call, I committed to ending a 20-year obsession that had consumed me for the last 15. While people around me agonized over car purchases or endlessly scrolled through hairstyle options, I effortlessly decided to stop my tanning habit, as simple as turning off the water in my kitchen sink.
Growing up in the era of Teen magazine and pop culture icons, I was influenced by the ideals of beauty that celebrated tanned skin. With fair skin, green eyes, and reddish-blonde hair, I felt an immense pressure to conform to the tanned standards of beauty. Starting at age 12, I would spend my summers diligently sunbathing, armed with baby oil and a radio, determined to achieve that coveted glow. I would turn every thirty minutes, convinced that the painful sunburns were merely a step toward my ultimate goal of bronzed skin.
As a teenager, I didn’t recognize the long-term effects of my sun exposure. My skin gradually adapted to the relentless UV rays, and I transitioned from baby oil to Hawaiian Tropic tanning lotion. After graduating high school in 1992, I ventured into tanning beds, dismissing the warnings I had heard about their dangers. By the time I was 18, I was lying in tanning beds multiple times a week, eager to maintain my “healthy” appearance.
Over the years, my tanning frequency escalated to three or four sessions weekly, lasting from spring through early fall. By 2007, I was using tanning beds from February to October, relishing every moment I spent under the heat and light. I became addicted; the scent of tanning accelerators became deeply ingrained in my psyche, triggering a sense of satisfaction. The transition from red to tan over the years only reinforced my belief that I was successful in my quest for beauty.
However, everything changed when a friend noticed a suspicious mole on my arm during a casual conversation. Despite my fair skin and numerous freckles, I had never thought much about the dark, horseshoe-shaped mole. My friend, now in nursing school, encouraged me to visit my doctor. Within a week, I learned that the mole was melanoma, leading to a whirlwind of medical appointments and a surgical procedure to remove it.
I stopped tanning immediately, giving away my remaining tanning sessions and embracing sunscreen with at least SPF 30. My life transformed into a series of skin checks and treatments for basal cell carcinoma, with multiple surgeries since my diagnosis. As of 2015, I’ve adopted a rigorous skincare routine and regularly use topical chemotherapy to combat precancerous spots—treatments I wouldn’t need if not for my past obsession with tanning.
While my story may not be as tragic as others, I count myself lucky. Many endure the trials of chemotherapy or face dire consequences. I have two teenagers who have only known summers filled with sunscreen and a mother who is now pale but alive. This journey has taught me the importance of skin health and the dangers of tanning.
For those interested in understanding skin health and related topics, resources like MedlinePlus are excellent starting points. Additionally, if you’re looking for helpful products, check out this post about home insemination kits and this one about Cryobaby kits for more information.
Summary:
The journey from tanning bed addiction to skin cancer awareness highlights the importance of self-care and education about skin health. After a melanoma diagnosis, I ceased my tanning habits and prioritized sunscreen and regular check-ups. I’m thankful for my friend who prompted me to seek help, allowing me to embrace a healthier lifestyle for myself and my family.
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