Mom-of-5 obsessed with tanning was accused of “burning” her 6-year-old in a tanning booth

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!

Tan Mom, Patricia Krentcil

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However, it wasn’t her tanning that originally made her a household name online.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!”

Tan Mom, Patricia Krentcil

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.”

Tan Mom, Patricia Krentcil

“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.

I Discovered Hotel Receipts in My Husband’s Car, Uncovering a Heartbreaking Truth — but Karma Took Its Toll on Him Severely

 

This shift in his pattern piqued my curiosity and concern. One weekend, while Derek was out visiting a friend, I decided to clean his car—a task that he usually took upon himself.

As I vacuumed the interior and wiped down the dashboard, I stumbled upon a stack of receipts tucked away in the glove compartment. My hands trembled slightly as I unfolded them, revealing charges for a hotel room right here in our town. The dates on these receipts coincided perfectly with the days he claimed to be out of town for work.

My initial instinct was to rationalize these findings. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation, like a mix-up with the receipts or perhaps he was helping out a friend in need. But as much as I wanted to dismiss my growing suspicions, the seeds of doubt had already been planted deep in my mind.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, I started to pay closer attention to Derek’s comings and goings. I started noting the times he left the house and the purported destinations for his business trips.

My scrutiny extended to collecting any and all receipts I could find—whether they were casually discarded in his pockets or left behind in his car. Most were mundane, everyday purchases, but every so often, another hotel receipt would surface among them, each one like a small jolt to my heart.

This pattern continued, each receipt adding weight to the uneasy feeling settling in my chest. The more I found, the more the pieces began to form a picture I was afraid to confront.

Yet, despite the mounting evidence, I hadn’t brought up my concerns with Derek. I was torn between not wanting to believe my husband could be deceiving me and the growing realization that I needed to address these doubts somehow.

The next few days were filled with a thick tension that seemed to permeate our home. Derek’s comings and goings became even more erratic, and his excuses grew increasingly flimsy. “I have to leave urgently,” he’d announce abruptly, and I’d nod, feigning indifference. But inside, my suspicion and resentment were building to a crescendo.

One evening, fed up with the lies, I decided to follow him. He left the house in a rush, barely managing a goodbye. I waited a few minutes before I quietly slipped into my car and trailed behind him from a safe distance.

My heart pounded as I drove, each turn he took adding to the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. He didn’t head towards the office or any business district; instead, he pulled into the parking lot of the same hotel from the receipts.

I parked a little way off and made my way to the lobby, trying to blend in with the crowd. I found a discreet spot near the elevators from where I could observe without being seen.

It wasn’t long before I saw him—Derek, my husband, the father of my children—walking side by side with a woman. They were laughing, touching each other’s arms intimately, and then they embraced, a long, passionate hug that made my heart sink.

The shock of seeing them together, so close, so personal, was nearly overwhelming. My hands shook with a mix of anger, sorrow, and disbelief. Driven by a surge of adrenaline, I stepped out from my hiding spot and confronted them. The look on their faces was priceless—shock, guilt, fear—it was all there. Derek stammered, and tried to explain, but I didn’t want to hear any of it.

The next few days were a blur of arguments, tears, and revelations. It turned out that the woman was more than just a fling; Derek had believed they had something special.

But the ultimate betrayal came when I learned from a mutual friend that, shortly after our breakup, she had scammed him. She had persuaded Derek to open a joint account under the guise of starting a new life together. Then, without warning, she withdrew every penny and disappeared, leaving him devastated and financially ruined.

This revelation didn’t bring me any satisfaction. Instead, there was a hollow feeling of vindication mixed with immense sadness for the chaos that now surrounded what was once a family united. Derek was a broken man, deceived by someone he trusted, just as he had deceived me.

In the wake of our separation, I found myself reevaluating everything that had happened. Our home felt different, and emptier, as I dealt with the aftermath of Derek’s actions on our marriage and our family’s financial stability. The prenup, once a simple precaution, now seemed like a prescient safeguard that protected what little I had left for our children’s future.

Derek’s affair and the subsequent scam had not only ended our marriage but had also left him in ruins. It was a painful irony that he was duped in much the same way he had deceived me. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him—he was, after all, the man I had once loved deeply.

Now, as I stand in the quiet of what used to be our shared living room, I realize the depth of the betrayal and the indelible mark it has left on my life. Moving forward won’t be easy, but it’s necessary. For me, for our kids, and even for Derek, the path to healing is going to be a long one, but it starts with stepping out of the shadows of deception and reclaiming my life, one day at a time.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*