I Publicly Admitted Not Wearing Sunscreen (Daily). Here's What Happened.

Last week, I posted a reel to Instagram that garnered quite a response. In it, I confessed something that apparently borders on sacrilege: I don't wear sunscreen daily. The comments section duly exploded with everything from enthusiastic agreement to genuine concern to outright judgment.

In the reel, I shared that I only apply sunscreen on sunny summer days when the sun is directly hitting my face. I don’t use it on cloudy days, during winter, or when I’m indoors, even if I’m sitting by a window.

I mentioned that sunscreen use has started to feel non-negotiable, not so much for cancer prevention, but as part of a broader anti-aging narrative. The messaging echoes the same tactics regularly used to sell us wrinkle creams, now repackaged in a health-conscious bow.

I ended the reel by saying I might be opening the floodgates, and indeed I was. The comments section and my DMs quickly filled with passionate responses from all sides. Some were scathing.

What struck me most was the intensity behind many reactions. Why have we become so militant about this particular aspect of “self-care”? Why are we outraged if someone makes a different choice about their own body?

This topic seems to hit a nerve with many. Some commenters shared personal stories of themselves or loved ones being diagnosed with skin cancer (and I certainly don’t take those experiences lightly). Others expressed relief at finding someone who doesn't follow the "wear sunscreen every single day no matter what" doctrine. A few were genuinely concerned I was being reckless.

While some of us are advocating for the freedom to choose what we do with, and what we put on, our own bodies, it seems the one exception to that is sunblock. Opt out, and you risk being treated like a social pariah.

The Selective Nature of Our Health Concerns

But what about other health considerations that rarely prompt the same level of public concern? The sunscreen conversation becomes even more complex when we consider it holistically.

Many sunscreen formulations contain ingredients that are potentially harmful to our health. Chemicals like oxybenzone, octinoxate, homosalate, and octocrylene have been linked to hormone disruption and skin irritation. Some research suggests these chemicals can be detected in bloodstreams after application, raising questions about long-term exposure effects. Yet these concerns rarely make it into the "wear sunscreen every day" mandate.

The environmental impacts are equally troubling. Those same chemicals are devastating coral reefs and marine ecosystems. Hawaii, Key West, Aruba, and several other locations have banned or restricted certain sunscreen ingredients because of their damaging effects on ocean life. Are we considering the planetary health implications when we insist on daily use regardless of circumstances?

Then there's the selective nature of our health outrage. Consider alcohol consumption. The risk of breast cancer increases with each unit of alcohol consumed per day. According to the World Health Organization, there is no safe level of alcohol consumption. Yet posting a photo with a glass of wine rarely prompts concerned messages about cancer risk. The difference in social response is telling.

And let's acknowledge an important point that rarely enters these conversations: the cost of quality sunscreen means it's simply not accessible for everyone. Are we going to scold or shame people who can't afford sunscreen for being reckless with their health?

Let me be clear about something: I understand the science. I know about UV damage and skin cancer risks. I'm not suggesting anyone toss their sunscreen in the bin or bake themselves to a crisp on the beach. I'm simply questioning when protective measures become excessive, and when sensible precaution morphs into another form of control over women's bodies. Because as my dear friend Jane McCann said “It’s definitely marketed towards women as age prevention, and I don’t see men receiving the same urgent message.”

The Beauty Industry's Co-opting of Health Messaging

I believe that the beauty industry has strategically co-opted legitimate health concerns about skin cancer prevention and transformed them into yet another anti-aging imperative. What may have begun as sensible medical advice for specific situations (i.e. prolonged sun exposure, high UV days) has morphed into a must-do to maintain youthful skin.

This clever marketing strategy has normalized the idea that we should be slathering products on our skin every single day without questioning whether it's actually necessary in every situation, conveniently ignoring the toxins that impact both our bodies and the environment. And it's been so effective that even those who consider themselves immune to anti-aging messaging have internalized this particular "rule."

Just to open the floodgates further, here's a contradiction I keep noticing: many people who swear by daily sunscreen for “health reasons” are also completely comfortable with regular Botox injections.

So, some of the same people who warn that skipping sunscreen is irresponsible and risky are also injecting a known neurotoxin into their faces, not for health, but for aesthetics.

This isn’t about shaming either choice, but about asking an honest question: why is one framed as essential self-care while the other is accepted (even celebrated!) despite its known risks? If we're genuinely concerned about what we put in and on our bodies, why does the line between “healthy” and “toxic” shift so easily when beauty is on the table?

The Vitamin D Question

There's another aspect to this conversation that we should also be talking about: Vitamin D deficiency. Studies have shown that midlife women are particularly prone to being deficient in this crucial vitamin, which is primarily synthesized when our skin is exposed to sunlight. Sunscreen, by design, interferes with this natural process.

As one commenter on my reel noted (a skincare professional from Norway): "Being vitamin D deficient is a far bigger problem in my opinion."

This isn't to suggest abandoning sun protection altogether, but rather considering the balance between protection and allowing our bodies to function as designed.

This also isn't an anti-sunscreen manifesto. It's an invitation to examine where our convictions come from and whether they truly serve us. It's a reminder that our daily habits (or lack of them) should be explored rather than repeated unquestioningly.

What I'm ultimately advocating for is the thoughtful consideration of what guides our choices. Are we making decisions based on facts or fear? And if fear is present, is it rooted in health concerns or simply the horror of visibly aging?

I am very much including myself in this call to pause and reflect. I’m not a medical professional, after all. I’m sharing my own personal thoughts and experience. But a huge part of my work is about challenging a culture of anti-aging, and it’s undeniable that our beliefs about the absolute necessity of sunscreen is an intersection of this work.

Perhaps the most revolutionary act isn't whether we wear sunscreen or not, but how intentionally we make these choices, and how we hold space for others to make theirs.

I'm curious to hear from you. What other 'non-negotiable' health or beauty rules have you questioned? Or how do you navigate making choices about sunscreen use in your own life? Share your thoughts in the comments.