English
As Erica Rimlinger tells it
I used to attend the Christmas festivities every year, toasted and glowing with a new tan. Tanning was part of my regular beauty routine and I felt incomplete if I didn’t do it. I never thought that I would cancel my membership at the tanning salon I had been going to for a long time, but this day came.
The cancellation form asked for a reason. I wrote in big letters: MELANOMA. I was 26 years old, I had recently been diagnosed with one of the deadliest forms of skin cancer, and I was angry with myself for ignoring the fine print warnings in the contract. The salon employee looked at my form after I responded, said, “Okay, you’re done,” and left.
Days before, my mother had begged me to get a mole on my chest checked. I was worried because my father had been diagnosed with stage 0 melanoma the month before. I thought my father’s diagnosis would make him paranoid. Just five weeks after my 26th birthday, I was much younger than my father and my suspicious birthmark looked exactly like his. Mine wasn’t as big as my dad’s mole, but it was different colors with jagged edges.
I ignored my mother by saying, “Sure, Mom,” but her concern stuck in my brain. I used Google to do my research and saw many photos of suspicious moles. Finally, I thought, OK, I have nothing to lose by having my skin checked by a dermatologist.
I was hardly prepared for the experience of standing naked from head to toe in front of a doctor I had only met five seconds before. I have a lot of moles and when the doctor examined them, he asked me about my tanning bed use, my family history of melanoma, and my sunbathing habits. I started to feel uncomfortable and became a little defensive. I live in Ohio where we don’t get much sun and tanning is a standard of beauty. You don’t see models who aren’t tanned, do you? The doctor asked me if I had any moles that I was worried about. I stubbornly said no.
2019
However, he came by to take a look at what was worrying my mother. It didn’t look like my other moles. He took it out for a biopsy and I thought, “Wonderful. We’re done.” I had heard of people constantly having precancerous moles removed. That didn’t mean anything bad was happening. My mother would like to have my skin checked and I have to admit that I felt a little better.
The doctor said I would get the results in three to five business days, but ten days passed and he didn’t tell me anything. I called the office and asked if they had lost my birthmark. The medical team apologized and said they had sent him for further tests. That’s when I felt the first negative feeling.
On the 14th day after the biopsy, I was sitting in the car with my husband when the dermatologist’s office called with my results. The somber tone of my doctor’s voice announced melanoma before he put it into words. Luckily my husband was driving. I had stage 1a melanoma that was on the verge of becoming stage 1b. The first thing I thought was, “This is worse than my father’s case.” Then I thought, “How could it be worse than my dad’s?” The doctor recommended immediate surgery and a lymph node examination. The entire conversation lasted less than 10 minutes, but my face was pale and my world also lost its color.
Two weeks after that call, I went to the hospital for eight hours. I had never been anesthetized before. The only medical procedure I had until then was the removal of my wisdom teeth. After the surgery I woke up with two large cuts and great sadness for the life I no longer had. I loved tanning. And that was deeply rooted in my body image. In addition to the sadness, she was also angry at me, at the sun, and even at my father’s habit of burning himself when he mowed the lawn or played golf.
I wanted to run again, lift weights and lie in the sun. The first two wishes had to wait until I was healed and the third was no longer an option for me. I had to change my lifestyle and cancel my solarium membership.
After a month and a half, I no longer felt sorry for it. I realized that this was of no use and that I had the opportunity to learn, change my habits and be grateful for my second chance. But I did this quietly and rarely told anyone because I was ashamed of my diagnosis.
2024
Over the next two years after my surgery, I underwent frequent skin exams and lost track of the biopsies I had. I felt like they were cutting my body open. The weight of mental, emotional and physical strain that came with surviving made me realize I needed support. It was time to share my story.
I came across #melanoma on social media and was surprised at how many people in their early 20s shared stories about their melanomas. I took a photo of my scars, posted it, panicked, and threw the phone across the room.
The ridicule, embarrassment, and “I told you so” messages I expected never showed up, not once. Instead, my community gave me love and support and I was so grateful. As I began interacting with other melanoma survivors and counselors, the burden became lighter.
I’m glad I sought support back then. My father’s melanoma recurred in his brain and lungs. After 21 rounds of immunotherapy, radiation knife radiation, and multiple visits to the emergency room, my father’s lesions began to shrink. Currently my father is still here and his melanoma is almost completely gone. We are so grateful and this experience has brought our family much closer together.
Leah and her father at their wedding, June 2025. (Photo/Aisley Herndon
Now I accept the fact that I loved the sun. Instead of silently blaming myself, I say how I feel and educate other people to protect themselves from the sun and get skin checks. I volunteer with the Melanoma Research Foundation [Fundación de investigación del melanoma] and I am on the leadership committee of the Melanoma Research Alliance [Alianza de investigación del melanoma] (MRA). When it comes to the MRA, I go to the Capitol every year and call on Congress to protect research funding, ban tanning beds, and do more research into sunscreen ingredients.
Instead of criticizing myself for not protecting myself from the sun as a teenager and young adult, I’m working to change the culture that encourages people to ignore the risks of tanning. I still go into the holidays glowing, but now out of gratitude and not because I got a tan.
This educational resource was created with support from Merck.
Are you a woman with real stories you would like to share? Let us know
Our stories are authentic experiences of real women. The views, opinions and experiences expressed in these stories are not endorsed by HealthyWomen and do not necessarily reflect HealthyWomen’s official policies or positions.
From your website articles
Related articles on the Internet
