It's Easier for Men Having Herpes... No Wait, It's Easier for Women Having Herpes...

I can't tell you how many times I've heard this. Someone in a support group says, "Honestly, it's so much easier for women to disclose. Men don't care as much." And then someone else chimes in, "Are you kidding? It's way easier for men. Women are more understanding and forgiving."

Sound familiar?

We've all done it. We look at someone else's situation and think, If only I had what they have, this would be so much easier. The single person envies the couple. The man thinks women have it easier. The woman thinks men have it easier. It never ends.

So let's just say it: having herpes sucks in its own unique way for everyone. And pretending it's easier for anyone else is just a way of avoiding our own stuff.

Let's start here because I hear this one a lot. The argument usually goes something like: women have it easier when it comes to disclosure because men are just happy to be there. They don't overthink it. They're not as judgmental. They're less likely to reject a woman based on a herpes diagnosis. Women, on the other hand, are supposedly more likely to say no, more likely to overanalyze, more likely to let stigma get in the way.

There's a tiny bit of truth to this. Some research does suggest that men may be less likely to reject a partner with herpes than women are. One study found that women tended to be more judgmental about a partner's STI status. Another survey suggested that men are often more focused on the connection and less focused on health details. So the idea that "men don't care as much" isn't entirely made up.

But here's what that argument completely ignores: women with herpes face a whole different set of challenges that have nothing to do with disclosure.

Women are more likely to experience recurrent outbreaks. Hormonal changes during menstruation can trigger the virus. We're at higher risk for complications like pelvic inflammatory disease. And there's the whole pregnancy thing—the fear of transmitting to a baby during childbirth, the conversations with obstetricians, the extra monitoring. That's a weight men don't carry.

Also, let's talk about the physical experience. Genital herpes can cause more frequent and severe symptoms in women due to the anatomy involved. Statistically, it's more likely to transimt to a woman than it is to a man. The virus has more mucosal tissue to work with. And because women often have less visible symptoms, we may not even know we're shedding, which means we might accidentally transmit to a partner and feel terrible about it.

So yes, maybe the disclosure part is slightly easier for women. But the rest? Not so much. It's not just easier. It's different.

Then there's the flip side. The argument that men have it easier because they're less emotionally affected, they can just "man up" and move on, and women are naturally more nurturing and accepting anyway.

But here's what that argument ignores. Men are socialized to not talk about their feelings. They're told to be stoic, to not be vulnerable, to handle things on their own. So when a man gets diagnosed with herpes, he often suffers in silence. He doesn't join support groups. He doesn't tell his friends. He just bottles it up and deals with it alone. That's not easier. That's isolating.

Men often tell me that it feels so much harder to be disclosing as a man. And, not just men with herpes - I've heard men saying dating is harder - because women are just there, ready to pick a man that they like. Men have to do all the work. Let me tell you, dear men. It's not like that. Even if you're a pretty woman, we don't just pick up from a list of suitors that are all just waiting there to bow to us. We want a man that can make us laugh, that respects us, that will treat us well, that will be there when we're down. That will accept our family. That will have similar goals in life. And it often doesn't happen.

Then there's the relationship factor. But honestly, it's not just about being single versus coupled. The comparisons go so much deeper than that.

I've heard it all in our group over the years. A woman once said, "Of course it's easier for you skinny girls to date. I'm overweight and I have herpes. You don't understand what it's like." Another time, someone argued that it's easier when you're younger because people are more open-minded and less judgmental. And someone else said: "No way, it's easier when you're older because people have more life experience. Young people are immature."

Then there's the great genital versus oral debate. "Genital is worse because it's more stigmatized," one person says. "Are you kidding?" another says, "Oral is worse because it's obvious to everybody and so many people think of it as 'just cold sores', so they don't even feel the need to disclose" And around and around we go.

I could probably go on forever about the comparisons I've heard over the years. It's easier if you're rich. It's easier if you live in a big city - because in a small city, if I disclose to one person, the whole neighborhood will know immediately. It's easier if you have a supportive family. It's easier if you have a good doctor. Everyone has a theory about why someone else has it better.

Here's what I've realized after years of listening to people argue about who has it worse. The comparison isn't helping anyone. It's just a distraction. When we focus on how someone else has it easier, we're not dealing with our own stuff. We're not having the conversations we need to have. We're not taking care of our bodies. We're not being honest with ourselves about what we actually need.

And honestly? The grass is always greener because we only see the highlights of someone else's life. We don't see their late-night anxiety. We don't see the partner who secretly struggles with it. We don't see the outbreaks they're not telling anyone about. We don't see the rejection they've faced. We just see the version of them that shows up in public.

Instead of comparing, we could be talking. To our partners. To our friends. To ourselves.

That's where the Tell Your Partner Toolkit comes in. Because whether you're a man or a woman, single or coupled, the most important thing is how you communicate about this stuff. The toolkit gives you the scripts, the confidence, and the framework to have the conversations that actually matter—whether it's a first disclosure, a monthly check-in, or a "I'm having a rough day and I need to talk" moment. You can grab the Tell Your Partner Toolkit right here.

When you stop comparing and start talking, something shifts. You realize that everyone is dealing with their own version of this. And the people who are doing it well? They're the ones who aren't focused on who has it easier. They're focused on showing up for themselves and their partners, however that looks.

No one. That's the answer. No one has it easier. Everyone has their own set of challenges. Everyone has their own fears. Everyone has their own things they're working through.

And let me tell you from a person experience. I've been talking about herpes for a decade. I walked on stages and talked about how herpes shouldn't affect you. Herpes is not you. It's not an anomaly that will drastically change your day to day life. It won't shorten your life span. It won't affect your ability to love and be loved.

And you know what? I still have my bad days. I still get these moments of: Oh, I just got an outbreak and we were intimate - did I transmit to my husband? Those feelings of guilt can still pop up from time to time. And do I like getting outbreaks? No. But I talk with my husband. I feel like the luckiets woman on this planet. Because through this experience that built me up to be who I am - I ended up with the best man in the world. And I wouldn't change a thing.

Maybe herpes didn't make it easier for me. But it lead me to where I am today.