By Taylor Mendez
Standing at the mirror one morning when I was 16, I noticed a mole I had never seen before. I remember thinking, “That looks different…but it’s probably nothing.” I almost ignored it and let it kill me.
At 16 years old, a junior in high school, my priorities were simple: school, friends and having fun. I grew up in St. Petersburg, Florida, a small town with a beach always within a 10-mile radius. Fun meant being in the sun from noon to sunset, soaking in every ray. Sunscreen felt optional, something our parents nagged us about — so what if I get a little burned? My friends and I chased that sun-kissed glow like it was a symbol of our happiness. We laughed about each other’s sunburned, peeled skin like it was normal. None of us could have imagined the long-term consequences.
Around that same time, I started Accutane, a treatment for severe acne that required regular visits to the dermatologist. Those appointments felt routine and predictable, check-ins about side effects and quick skin exams. Skin cancer was the last thing on my mind. I was focused on clearing my skin, not protecting it.
At my next routine visit with the dermatologist, my slightly medically anxious teenage self thought I should mention this new mole. “I see these all the time,” she said. “Let’s do a quick biopsy, but this is nothing to worry about.” I agreed, thinking this was just standard precaution; her confidence eased my nerves and I didn’t think about it again.
A few days later, my dad got a call from my dermatologist. She explained that I needed to see an oncologist immediately. The mole was an extremely rare type of melanoma, with under 200 reported cases in North America. Skin cancer. At 16.
The word melanoma didn’t feel real at first. I associated it with older adults or extreme cases, not someone my age who simply liked being in the sun. I remember running to my room to sit on my bed because my legs suddenly felt weak. Fear came in waves: What happens now? Did I wait too long? Will it come back?
Young people can get melanoma too, especially when prevention is ignored. I had unknowingly fit the risk profile. Melanoma risk increases with frequent sun exposure, sunburns and not using sun protection. These had all been normal parts of my life.
Surgery was scheduled quickly to remove the cancer. The day of the procedure, the air in the surgical room felt cold and sterile, and I still didn’t feel like this was really happening to me as I tried to steady my breathing. This was one of the scariest moments of my life, and having full faith in my doctors was the only thing I could do.
Recovery required patience and constant monitoring. Each follow-up visit carried a mix of relief and anxiety. But with every appointment, I felt stronger, not just physically, but mentally. I had faced something frightening and unfamiliar and came through it as a stronger young woman.
That experience reshaped how I think about health. Skin protection stopped being optional — it became a daily habit and a personal responsibility. Sunscreen is now part of my routine regardless of the weather. I wear protective clothing, avoid unnecessary sun exposure and pay attention to any changes in my skin. More importantly, my mindset changed. I learned that prevention is powerful and early detection can save lives. I also realized how easily public health risks can feel distant until they become personal. Because tanning and the beach were such normal parts of my life, I never knew how it was harming me.
The experience didn’t just affect me physically, it changed how I interact with others. I talk openly with my friends about protecting their skin. Some of them have started wearing sunscreen regularly or stopped going to tanning beds because of conversations we’ve had. What once felt like a private health scare became a message I felt obligated to share with others. Looking back, I understand how close I came to missing the warning signs. If I had not been seeing my dermatologist regularly because of Accutane, I likely would not have scheduled a visit for that mole. I might have ignored it until it was too late. Instead, early detection gave me treatment, recovery and a second chance to care for my health.
My story carries a simple but urgent message: Protect your skin. Encourage friends and family to take prevention seriously. Public health is not just about communities; it is about everyday choices. One appointment, one habit or one moment of awareness can change a life.
Taylor Mendez is a third-year public health major.
“My Public Health Story” essays originated from an assignment on public health storytelling for a public health messaging and dissemination course led by Gaia Zori, Ph.D., M.P.H., coordinator for the social and behavioral sciences and public health practice concentrations in the Master of Public Health program.