I Know How Risky Tanning Beds Are, So Why Can’t I Quit Them?

“I’ll just do a few sessions on a tanning bed to build a base tan before my holiday,” I told myself earlier this year. The results weren’t instant, unlike the self-tanners I’ve used for over a decade, but after a few visits, my skin looked golden. I enjoyed the somewhat lasting glow that didn’t leave me looking like a slice of Dutch crunch bread after four days.

I planned to stop going to the tanning salon once I returned home, but the allure of tanned skin was hard to resist. What started as building a vacation base tan — which dermatologists argue is actually a myth — quickly turned into, “I’ll keep going so I’m tanned for my birthday,” then, “I might as well continue over summer. A few more weeks won’t hurt.” Before I knew it, I was clocking up more minutes at the tanning salon than I could count.

But here's the thing: I know the potentially life-threatening risks of using tanning beds. I know that using tanning beds increases the risk of developing skin cancer, including melanoma, and that, as reported by the Skin Cancer Foundation, more than 419,000 cases of skin cancer in the US each year are linked to indoor tanning. I’m not alone in knowing the risks. In a survey conducted by the American Academy of Dermatology (AAD), 20% of Gen Z adults said that getting a tan is more important to them than preventing skin cancer. But exactly why do we continue? 

Dr. Ravi Gill, a practitioner psychologist at Smart Mind Health, says that beauty ideals such as ‘tanned equals attractive’ can override our instinct for self-protection: “This is due to powerful social and psychological influences,” says Dr. Gill. Adding, “From a young age, we’re exposed to messages — through media, peers and culture — that link tanned skin with attractiveness, status, and health. Over time, these ideas are internalized and tied to our self-worth and identity.”

Lisa, 32, can certainly relate. She used a tanning bed for the first time at just 17 years old after a friend said it would “look good” to have tanned skin. “I was curious, so I decided to give it a try,” she tells me, adding that body insecurities are a reason she still uses them: “When I’m tanned, the spider veins and cellulite on my legs, which you don’t see much of on social media, are less visible,” she says. “That makes me feel more confident. I get compliments as well, which is motivation to continue.” 

Interestingly, tanning isn’t the only example of how we’re trading safety for self-esteem. This notion can also be applied to many of our aesthetic practices, like unregulated Botox and BBLs, which have a notoriously high mortality rate in comparison to other cosmetic procedures. Shedding light on this, Dr. Gill explains that humans crave social acceptance and fear rejection, choosing to conform to beauty norms — even when they involve risks: “The desire for social belonging and approval often feels more immediate and emotionally powerful than long-term health concerns,” she says.

Concerningly, Lisa tells me that she fears skin aging more than skin cancer: “Ironically, I’ve curated a social media feed full of skinfluencers teaching me how to look after my skin, and I’ve honed a [multi-step] skincare routine. Yet I continue to do the one thing that will damage my skin the most — something which no amount of serum or SPF can save me from.”

Lisa’s honesty, or as she puts it, “silliness”, might seem extreme to some, but it reveals a deeper truth: decades of messaging have taught us that our value lies in our appearance. Thanks to the popularity of Ozempic alongside the return of thinness on red carpets and For You Pages (which notably prompted the 'skinnytok' hashtag ban), being slim is back on a pedestal — and tanning plays a role here. I've often found myself commenting on how much 'slimmer' I look with a tan, and who can blame me? Shows like Love Island have helped solidify the idea that bronzed skin doesn’t just look “better” but also leaner and more sculpted — like contouring for your whole body.

While I think tanning makes me look better in many ways, I feel particularly conflicted about the damage it’s doing thanks to my medical history. I’ve always had a few questionable moles. Some are asymmetric, others have jagged borders and a range of colors. On holiday, when my skin is exposed in a bikini, friends and family have commented on it and encouraged me to get checked out. After spending time living in Australia, where UV levels are very high, I decided to follow through on this. I wasn’t a tanning bed user at the time of my first (or second) mole check, but doctors did flag that the Sydney sunshine could have put my skin at risk. After an examination of my moles, I was advised to keep an eye on them and return if I saw any “noticeable changes”. 

In the years since those checks, I’ve observed a handful of changes to some of my moles. But as someone with health anxiety, I never know if I’m being paranoid or if I really should go back to the doctor. Consequently, I’m in limbo — I don’t want to waste my doctor’s time if the changes I’ve seen aren’t “noticeable” enough, but I also don’t want to ignore the issue and end up in a potentially life-threatening situation. Taking all of this into consideration, the fact that I use tanning beds probably sounds absurd. Honestly, it’s something I’m quite embarrassed about.

Dr. Gill explains that this is a case of cognitive dissonance, when a person feels psychological discomfort because their actions contradict their beliefs. “In beauty culture, this dissonance is common,” she says, pointing again to societal pressures. “For example, someone may understand the risks of tanning bed use or crash dieting but still engage in these behaviors to align with societal beauty ideals.” Dr. Gill goes on to explain that we try to resolve this internal discomfort by rationalizing our behaviors rather than changing them. Telling ourselves, “It’s just for summer” or “Everyone else is doing it” is an easy way to avoid feelings of guilt.

Critics, however, often think that tanning bed users should feel guilty for this choice. But here's the thing: “Shaming people for using tanning beds often backfires, making them more likely to continue the behavior,” says Dr. Gill. She adds, “Research shows that self-criticism reduces motivation for change, while compassionate, non-judgmental support is more effective in encouraging healthier choices.” But can anyone truly say they’ve always put their health above all else? Like tanning beds, alcohol, processed meat, and tobacco, for example, are classed as type one carcinogens — substances that can cause cancer. I’m keen to know whether those who frown on my habit often indulge in a fast food burger or unwind with a bottle of wine.

That’s before we bring class into the equation. Research that shows those from lower socio-economic backgrounds are more likely to use tanning beds. Although further investigation is needed to explore why that is, a 2022 study concluded that tanning bed use has been historically framed through the media as a “working-class activity”.

Of course, it’s not just about class, appearances or a taste for Sauvignon Blanc; the addictiveness of carcinogens plays a role: “Tanning is addictive and there’s actually a biological explanation,” says Dr. Clare Kiely, a consultant dermatologist and cofounder of The Skin Diary. She explains that when the body is exposed to UV radiation, it triggers a process that results in the release of endorphins, hormones that create a sense of “euphoria”. For many, the glow isn’t just about looking good — it’s about feeling good, too: “I'm normally in a better mood after a tanning bed,” confirms Ella, who agrees this “mood-boosting” effect is a big factor in why people feel addicted to tanning beds. Lisa echoes this, telling me she enjoys the light and “me-time” of being on a tanning bed: “It’s like dreaming myself away to a beach.” 

Given how addictive tanning beds are, the responsibility to prevent their damage shouldn’t rest solely on users. Many experts argue that stricter regulation is the only way forward, especially as research shows we continue to tan in spite of the evidence before us. “I don’t believe the current regulations are adequate,” says Dr. Rakesh Anand, a consultant dermatologist and British Skin Foundation spokesperson. He notes that while there are restrictions on under-18s and some standards for equipment and usage, there’s still a “significant” public health risk.

“Given the well-established link between tanning bed use and skin cancer, stronger measures are urgently needed,” he adds. As for what that might look like, various skin cancer charities have called for tanning beds to have graphic warning signs similar to those found on cigarette packets, while a June 2025 study exposed “potential gaps in current regulations” when it comes to tanning salons marketing on social media. 

Whether on a tanning bed in New York or a beach lounger in Mexico, dermatologists are firm in their answer that there’s no such thing as a safe tan — “Unless it’s self-tanner from a bottle,” says Dr. Kiely. She agrees with Dr. Anand that the only way to “eliminate” risk is to ban tanning beds, as they are in countries such as Australia and Brazil: “I’m coming at it as a person who has spent her career cutting out thousands of skin cancers, some of them life-threatening,” Dr. Kiely adds. “We are watching the number of skin cancers scale out of control in our clinics. We must take measures now to protect future generations.”

Despite being reminded by every expert of the very real dangers before me, in the time I’ve been writing this article, I’ve racked up another 44 minutes on the tanning beds — although I have reduced the frequency of my visits. I want to stop altogether and pick up my once-beloved self-tanners that are currently collecting dust, but I’m trying to feel less guilt and shame about this habit, as I’ve unpicked how years of societal pressure led me to this point. Ultimately, that’s what needs to change. From Botox to fillers and beyond, we’ve all been sold on the ‘ideal’ appearance, which can differ depending on what we’ve been conditioned into thinking.

The recent ban on disposable vapes proves that if people want to do something, they’ll find a way, so we all have to do our part in breaking the cycle when it comes to tanning. Mine is writing this article and being vulnerable about a paradox many of us feel but rarely discuss: the desire to protect our skin while craving the glow of a tan. It would also help to see celebrities and influencers embracing their natural skin tones, and for brands to do the same with the models in their campaigns. Whether it’s a school session or a poster in a tanning salon, better education could also go a long way — not just about the dangers of tanning beds, which clearly isn’t always enough, but about how to resist outside pressure. In learning how to accept ourselves as we are, we might just find the glow hits differently when it comes from within.