Another Thing for Millennial Women to Stress Over - The Cut

saved Save this article to read it later. Find this story in your account’s ‘Saved for Later’ section. Comment Photo-Illustration: The Cut; Photos Getty Images Photo-Illustration: The Cut; Photos Getty Images I felt like I was going crazy. I had a small bump on my stomach and an aching pain in my ribs, and my Google searches pointed to a scary explanation: shingles. I made an appointment to see my doctor, certain it would turn out to be nothing. But Dr. Google was right this time. My doctor took one look at me and said, “I’m sorry, you definitely have shingles.” Then she told me I had pushed myself too hard while training for a marathon. “It is not a mild case,” she said. “Your body is telling you that you’ve been doing too much and need to slow down.” The painful viral infection that shows up as a terrible rash and nerve pain that can last for months, my doctor told me, comes from dormant chickenpox virus in your body and appears when your immune system is weakened or you’re under stress. I was shocked. How could I have shingles? I thought I still had years before I needed to worry about it; I’m only 43. I left the doctor’s office in tears, dreading what the next week would bring as the rash grew worse. When I told friends of mine, mostly ambitious women in their 30s and 40s, about my diagnosis, almost all of them had a story of their own. There’s Ahna, who was planning the school talent show, overseeing multiple events at her church, and training for a marathon, all while working a full-time job and raising two kids. And Kyna, who had a full-time research position at a hospital while studying for the MCAT; Veronica, who was about six months into a high-profile new job and already dealing with co-worker drama; and Kinsee, who was trying to work during the pandemic while taking care of her children and overseeing their remote school. (After recovering, she said, she’s since gone on to get shingles two more times.) One friend was waiting to hear if she’d get a big promotion and got shingles on her vulva. Yes, truly. “I couldn’t sit for a month,” she told me. They all were stressed by the demands of what’s basically normal life for most of us — having to hold it together at work, at home, in our overextended lives. Mostly circumstances we can’t do much about. And, like me, some said their doctors blamed them for bringing the shingles on themselves. “My doctor said it was because of my stress,” Ahna said. “She said once I get shingles, I’m susceptible to another episode, so to try and keep stress down.” Good luck with that. I’ve started calling shingles the scourge of the millennial woman (plus some young Gen-Xers) because we fall in an unlucky age gap: If you’re 50 and up, you can get the shingles vaccine; if you’re 30 or under, you’ve probably had the chickenpox vaccine, which makes getting shingles way less likely. And, of course, women ages 30 to 50 are very likely to be stressed by school-age kids, aging parents, demanding jobs, and the incessant “world is on fire” nature of our day to day. Shingles cases have been rising across all age groups since the late 1960s, but the increase has been sharpest among adults in their 30s and 40s. A 2016 study found cases in Americans under 50 quadrupled from the late 1940s to the early aughts, and CDC data shows the trend continuing through 2019. And a March 2026 study found that younger adults with chronic conditions like depression, diabetes, lung disease, and asthma actually had a higher shingles risk than healthy adults in their 50s. Women get shingles more than men across virtually every age group, and the gap is widest right in the millennial sweet spot. Jennifer Moffat, a SUNY microbiology and immunology professor who’s been researching chickenpox and shingles for decades, said that’s both because women’s immune systems are more susceptible to the virus and because our lives are more stressful. After getting the bad news from my doctor, I rushed to the pharmacy to start a weeklong course of Valtrex, which, if started quickly enough, would stop the shingles rash from spreading further. Within a few days, I had a ring of red bumps along my rib cage to my back. It felt like I was constantly being stabbed with tiny needles. I took ibuprofen four times a day and struggled to sleep at night. I canceled my marathon plans, but otherwise continued my life as normal — parenting and working and occasionally reminding myself to calm down. Weeks passed and the shingles just wouldn’t go away. The bumps faded, but the nerve sensations wouldn’t quit, switching from pain to itching to (my actual least favorite) a tickling sensation. Imagine trying to sleep while someone constantly tickles your stomach. The normal course of shingles is over a month, but for some people the pain can last the rest of their lives. If you get it on your face, it might permanently impact your vision. Given how painful, debilitating, and long lasting shingles is, some researchers want to give us millennials a shot at the vaccine. “I’m in favor of everyone getting this vaccine who wants it,” said Moffat. “Anyone who is under 50 now and is interested in not ever having shingles could talk to their doctor and decide if they were eligible.” So why isn’t the vaccine available for younger people? The fact that it impacts women more might be part of the explanation, Moffat said: “I think it’s that a lot of the decision-makers are not women, so the people sitting in rooms deciding who gets this vaccine are not women.” Dr. William Schaffner, a professor of infectious diseases at Vanderbilt Health, said there’s also a cost-benefit analysis. The risk of shingles increases dramatically after age 50, he said, so it’s harder to argue that insurance should pay for younger people to get the vaccine. “Because the occurrence of shingles in that population is so low that in effect the juice ain’t worth the squeeze,” he said. “You don’t give the yellow-fever vaccine to people who aren’t traveling internationally.” Plus, if younger people get the vaccine, they may need a booster later in life, he argued. That hasn’t been studied, and it would be quite an effort to try to vaccinate the entire population of 30- and 40-year-olds, especially if the risk of getting shingles is low. In fact, Schaffner said, it’s been a challenge to get older people to take the vaccine. As of 2024, only one in five eligible 50-year-olds had received both doses. Researchers aren’t sure why shingles cases are increasing, but Schaffner said one theory is connected to the chickenpox vaccine. “Back in the day when chickenpox was rampant, people who recovered from chickenpox would encounter the virus occasionally, but they wouldn’t get sick because they already had chickenpox,” he said. “However, that re-exposure to the virus boosted the immune system.” Now, with the chickenpox vaccine, there isn’t as much of the virus out in the wild, so our immune system doesn’t get that boost, which means we may be more likely to get shingles, he said. The chickenpox vaccine dramatically reduces the chances that you’ll get shingles, so the rise in shingles cases is also a short-term problem. Pretty soon, people who never got chickenpox will enter their 30s and 40s, and shingles will likely largely go away, he said. In the meantime, people like me are still struggling. Here’s what I wish I’d known: Before the rash appears, you’ll have symptoms on one side of your body, usually the ribs, neck, or face (but in rare cases it can be on your arms, legs, or genitals). It feels like burning, tingling, shooting pain, itching, or extreme skin sensitivity. My ribs were tender to the touch. One to five days later, the rash emerges. It’s very important, Moffat stressed, to start an antiviral drug within 48 to 72 hours of first noticing the rash. The longer you wait, the more it will spread. And if you’ve had shingles already, you’re more likely to get it a second — or third! — time, and researchers are finding it runs in families, Moffat said. She advised anyone, even if they’re under 50, to ask their doctor about whether they could get the vaccine. It is covered by most insurances for people 19 and up who are immunocompromised, which can include a long list of conditions, she said. And even if you aren’t covered, you can still get the vaccine and pay out of pocket. It runs about $470 to $600 for both doses, but you can find ways to use coupons and get discounts. As for me, six weeks later I still feel sometimes like someone is tickling my rib cage, especially when I’m trying to sleep. With my marathon plans permanently shelved and the last two months being the most miserable of my entire life, I definitely would have shelled out that cash to not have had this experience. But I’ll try not to stress myself out about it.