In 2012, Patricia Krentcil gained notoriety after being accused of endangering children. In fact, readers may be more familiar with her as “Tan Mom” due to her obsession with frequenting tanning salons and spending time in the booth five days a week.
Eventually, Patricia came dangerously close to passing away because to the contentious condition known as tanerexia, which occurs when a person doesn’t recognize or accept how much color they have. Though she continues to visit the salon, she is now doing much better.
“Tan Mom” has endured a lot over the past ten years. Here is how she seems right now!
Obsession with anything, whether it be eating, shopping, television shows, or anything else, is rarely a beneficial habit to form. Of course, some things are worse for your health than others, but ultimately, it’s important to understand the long-term effects an obsession may have on one’s life.
It’s usually a good idea to see someone if you ever feel like something is starting to dominate your life or that you are placing an obsession above other crucial aspects of your regular existence. Try speaking with a friend or getting support from a counselor.
Patricia Krentcil – ‘Tan Mom’
Patricia Krentcil’s fascination propelled her to internet stardom. She began tanning when she was younger, and it soon became to be a significant part of her life. When Patricia went on trial for bringing her daughter to a tanning parlor in 2012, she instantly became an internet sensation. Although she was never found guilty, her name was already well-known.
She now tans more healthfully, but her time spent in the booth had a significant impact on her life and appearance.
When Patricia was only 23 years old, she developed a tanning fetish. According to the owner of City Tropics Tanning Salon in Nutley, New Jersey, the New Jersey woman averaged five visits each week for a maximum session length of 12 minutes. She paid $100 a month for an unlimited package.
“I’ve been tanning my whole life, going to the beach, tanning salons and so forth,” she said.
However, it wasn’t her tanning that originally made her a household name online. Her image was widely shared online in 2012, but for a completely different cause.
Krentcil was accused with endangering children in May 2012. According to authorities, she put her 6-year-old kid in a stand-up tanning booth, causing burns, as CBS New York reported.
Charged after brining daughter tanning
Patricia, though, asserted that everything was a massive misunderstanding. She was adamant that she would never take Anna, her daughter, to the salon.
“No not at all, not at all, not whatsoever,” Krentcil said.
However, the Nutley Police Department detained Krentcil and accused him of endangering children. The toddler allegedly received a minor burn in the tanning salon where she had taken Anna with her, according to the authorities.
According to ABC, New Jersey law prohibits anyone under the age of 14 from using a tanning bed. Teens older than 14 could visit salons, but only with permission from their parents.
In Anna’s case, the controversy began when a school nurse happened to ask Anna how she had gotten burned, to which the girl answered: “I go tanning with mommy.” Patricia, though, claimed that Anna had been burned after playing outside in their backyard.
“There’s not room… I would never permit it… It didn’t happen,” Krentcil said.
“She’s 6 years old. Yes, she does go tanning with mommy, but not in the booth,” she added. “The whole thing’s preposterous!”
Patricia at that moment earned the moniker “Tan Mom” in the media. Patricia’s face was on newscasts and in newspapers all around the world after the purported incident went viral online.
“They just don’t realize just how much color they have”
Additionally, it clarified the contentious condition known as tanorexia, in which a person develops a dependence on and obsession with tanning.
“When you look at this, this is somebody who has a problem which most likely has a condition called tanerexia, where they just don’t realize just how much color they have,” New York dermatologist Doris Day told ABC News.
“There’s really no excuse to take a young child to a tanning salon,” she added.
“We often consider going to a tanning salon the equivalent of smoking for the skin and the younger you start, those effects are cumulative.”
Health professionals concurred that Patricia’s situation was quite serious. Dermatologist Dr. Joshua Zeichner thought it was one of the craziest situations he had ever encountered.
“In all my years of treating patients as a dermatologist, I have never encountered anything like this,” Zeichner said.
“Going to a tanning salon 20 times a month, frankly, is insane, especially with all of the public education and awareness campaigns on the dangers of tanning beds and skin cancers.”
“It may be she has an [obsession with] tanning, which actually now has a name – tanorexia. She may need help to treat not only the damage to her skin but also what is going on with her psychologically,” he added.
‘Tan Mom’ faced up to 10 years in prison
The Skin Care Foundation claims that people who use indoor tanning equipment have a four-fold increased risk of developing melanoma. Sunbeds emit 12 to 15 times more UV radiation than the sun, according to the foundation.
Devastated After Burying My Wife, I Took My Son on Vacation – My Blood Ran Cold When He Said, ‘Dad, Look, Mom’s Back!’
Imagine burying a loved one, only to see them alive again. When my son spotted his “dead” mother on our beach vacation, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The truth I uncovered was far more heartbreaking than her death.
I never thought I’d experience grief so young, but here I am at 34, a widower with a 5-year-old son. The last time I saw my wife Stacey two months ago, her chestnut hair smelled of lavender as I kissed her goodbye. Then, a phone call that will forever be etched in my memory shattered my world… 💔
A man holding a smartphone | Source: Unsplash
I was in Seattle at that time, finalizing a significant deal for my company when my phone buzzed. It was a call from Stacey’s father.
“Abraham, there’s been an accident. Stacey… she’s gone.”
“What? No, that’s impossible. I just talked to her last night!”
“I’m so sorry, son. It happened this morning. A drunk driver…”
An older man holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
His words faded into a dull roar. I don’t remember the flight home, just stumbling into our empty house. Stacey’s parents had already arranged everything. The funeral was over, and I hadn’t been able to say goodbye.
“We didn’t want to wait,” her mother said, avoiding my eyes. “It was better this way.”
I was too numb to argue. I should have fought harder. I should have demanded to see her, to say goodbye. But grief does funny things to your mind. It clouds your judgment and makes you accept things you’d normally question.
A grieving man in a cemetery | Source: Pexels
That night, after the funeral, I held Luke as he cried himself to sleep.
“When’s Mommy coming home?”
“She can’t, buddy. But she loves you very much.”
“Can we call her? Will she talk to us, Daddy?”
“No, baby. Mommy’s in heaven now. She can’t talk to us anymore.”
He buried his face in my chest as I held him tight, my tears falling silently. How could I explain death to a five-year-old when I could barely understand it myself?
A teary-eyed little boy in bed | Source: Midjourney
Two months crawled by.
I threw myself into work and hired a nanny for Luke. But the house felt like a mausoleum. Stacey’s clothes still hung in the closet and her favorite mug sat unwashed by the sink. Every corner held a memory, and those memories were slowly haunting me.
One morning, as I watched Luke push his cereal around his bowl, barely eating, I knew we needed a change.
“Hey champ, how about we go to the beach?” I asked, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice.
A woman’s clothes hung in a closet | Source: Unsplash
His eyes lit up for the first time in weeks. “Can we build sandcastles?”
“You bet! And maybe we’ll see some dolphins.”
I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this trip was what we both needed to start healing.
We checked into a beachfront hotel, our days filled with sun and surf. I watched Luke splash in the waves, his laughter a soothing melody to my weary soul. I almost forgot the pain and lost myself in the simple joy of being a dad.
A little boy standing on the beach and holding a ball | Source: Midjourney
On our third day, I was lost in thought when Luke came running.
“Daddy! Daddy!” he shouted. I smiled, thinking he wanted more ice cream.
“Dad, look, Mom’s back!” he said, pointing at someone.
I froze, following his gaze. A woman stood by the beach, her back to us. Same height as Stacey with the same chestnut hair. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.
A woman standing on the beach | Source: Unsplash
“Luke, buddy, that’s not—”
The woman turned slowly. And my stomach dropped the moment our eyes met.
“Daddy, why does Mommy look different?” Luke’s innocent voice cut through my shock.
I couldn’t speak. My eyes were fixed on the horror about thirty yards away, laughing.
It was Stacey.
Her eyes widened as she grabbed the arm of a man next to her. They hurried away, disappearing into the crowd of beach-goers.
A startled woman | Source: Midjourney
“Mommy!” Luke cried, but I scooped him up.
“We need to go, buddy.”
“But Dad, it’s Mom! Didn’t you see her? Why didn’t she come say hi?”
I carried him back to our room, my mind reeling. It couldn’t be. I’d buried her. Hadn’t I? But I knew what I saw. That was Stacey. My wife. Luke’s mother. The woman I thought was dead.
A little boy crying | Source: Pexels
That night, after Luke fell asleep, I paced the balcony. My hands shook as I dialed Stacey’s mother.
“Hello?” she answered.
“I need to know exactly what happened to Stacey.”
Silence, then, “We’ve been through this, Abraham.”
“No, tell me again.”
A man holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
“The accident was early morning. It was too late by the time we reached the hospital.”
“And the body? Why couldn’t I see her?”
“It was too damaged. We thought it best—”
“You thought wrong,” I snapped, hanging up.
I stood there, staring out at the dark ocean. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it in my gut. And I was going to get to the bottom of it.
A senior woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I took Luke to the kids’ club in the resort along with his nanny. “I’ve got a surprise for you later, champ!” I promised, hating myself for the lie.
I spent hours combing the beach, the shops, and the restaurants. No sign of Stacey or her companion. With each passing hour, my frustration grew. Was I going crazy? Had I imagined the whole thing?
As the sun began to set, I slumped onto a bench, defeated. Suddenly, a familiar voice made me jump.
“I knew you’d look for me.”
Silhouette of a woman near the beach | Source: Unsplash
I turned to find Stacey standing there, alone this time. She looked just like I remembered, but somehow different. Harder. Colder.
“How?” It was all I could manage.
“It’s complicated, Abraham.”
“Then explain it,” I snarled, my hands shaking with anger and shock as I secretly captured her conversation on my phone.
A sad woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
“I never meant for you to find out like this. I’m pregnant.”
“What?”
“It’s not yours,” she whispered, not meeting my eyes.
The story slowly spilled out. An affair. A pregnancy. An elaborate plan to escape.
“My parents helped me,” Stacey admitted. “We knew you’d be away. The timing was perfect.”
“Perfect?” Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Luke? To me?”
Close-up of a furious man frowning | Source: Midjourney
Tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t face you. This way, everyone could move on.”
“Move on? I thought you were DEAD! Do you know what it’s like to tell your five-year-old son his mother is never coming home?”
“Abraham, please try to understand—”
“Understand what? That you’re a liar? A cheater? That you let me grieve while you ran off with your lover?”
Close-up of a distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed, glancing around nervously.
I stood, towering over her. “No. You don’t get to call the shots anymore. You lost that right when you decided to play dead.”
As Stacey opened her mouth to respond, a small voice cut through, stopping me cold.
“Mommy?”
We both turned. Luke stood there, his eyes wide, clutching his nanny’s hand. My heart sank. How much had he heard?
A sad little boy crying | Source: Pexels
Stacey’s face went white. “Luke, honey—”
I scooped him up, backing away. “Don’t you dare speak to him.”
The nanny looked confused, her eyes darting between Stacey and me. “Sir, I’m so sorry. He ran off when he saw you.”
“It’s okay, Sarah. We’re leaving.”
Luke squirmed in my arms. “Daddy, I want to go to Mommy… please. Mommy, don’t leave me. Mommy… Mommy!”
Close-up of a startled woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
I carried him away, ignoring his tearful pleas. In our room, I packed frantically while Luke peppered me with questions.
“Why are you crying, Daddy? Why can’t we go to Mommy?”
I knelt before him, taking his small hands in mine. How could I explain this? How do you tell a child that his mother chose to abandon him?
A teary-eyed little boy looking up | Source: Pixabay
“Luke, I need you to be brave. Your mother did a very bad thing. She lied to us.”
His lower lip trembled. “She doesn’t love us anymore?”
The innocent question shattered what was left of my heart. I pulled him close, unable to hold back my tears. “I love you enough for both of us, buddy. Always. No matter what happens, you’ll always have me, okay?”
His tiny head nestled against my chest, a small nod followed by a deep sleep. His tears soaked through my shirt, leaving a damp, salty reminder of our shared grief.
A sad little boy looking out the window | Source: Freepik
The next few weeks were a blur. Lawyers, custody arrangements, and explaining to Luke in terms a 5-year-old could understand. Stacey’s parents tried to reach out, but I shut them down. They were as much to blame as she was.
One month later, I sat in my lawyer’s office and signed the final papers.
“Full custody and generous alimony,” she said. “Given the circumstances, Mrs. Stacey didn’t contest anything.”
I nodded, numb. “And the gag order?”
“In place. She can’t discuss the deception publicly without severe penalties.”
A lawyer in her office | Source: Pexels
As I stood to leave, my lawyer touched my arm. “Abraham, off the record, I’ve never seen a case like this. How are you holding up?”
I thought of Luke, waiting at home with my parents, the only ones he could trust now. “One day at a time!” I said.
In the eyes of the law, I was no longer a widower. But in my heart, the woman I married was gone forever, leaving behind only a ghost of broken promises and shattered trust.
Grayscale of an emotional man | Source: Pixabay
Two months later, I stood on our new balcony, watching Luke play in the backyard. We’d moved to a different city, a fresh start for both of us. It hadn’t been easy. Luke still had nightmares and still asked about his mom. But slowly, we were healing.
One day, my phone buzzed with a text from Stacey.
“Please, let me explain. I miss Luke so much. I’m feeling so lost. My boyfriend broke up with me. 😔🙏🏻“
I deleted it without responding. Some bridges, once burned, can never be rebuilt. She’d made her choice, and now she had to live with it.
Close-up of a man holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
As the sun set on another day, I hugged my son tight. “I love you, buddy,” I whispered.
He grinned up at me, his eyes shining with trust and love. “I love you too, Daddy!”
And in that moment, I knew we were going to be okay. It wouldn’t be easy, and there would be tough days ahead. But we had each other, and that’s what mattered most.
A father and child holding hands | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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