If you read only one story on bunions this year, this is the one!

You’d think bunions would have more buzz. They strike about an estimated one in three adults, meaning a conservative estimate of one bunion per person translates into something like 86 million bunions nationwide. Even given the ever-expanding number of Kardashians, bunions are still a bigger threat.

Bunions prey mainly on women, and the demographic skews older — a deadly combo in our culture that, sadly, gives bunions a whiff of shame. They’re the menopause of the foot world.

But eventually you get to the point where you’ve had enough of the hiding, and you step out from the shadows — as I did recently, when a hiking boot turned into a vise midway up a mountain.

The nice thing about going public is that it often touches something in others and moves people to confess things, foot-related and otherwise.

“I had gout last year,” a friend whispered, though we were alone. “Who am I — a French man?”

“Even Birkenstocks aren’t comfortable,” a friend fighting a double bunionectomy told me.

A bunion is a bony bump that forms on the joint at the base of your big toe, and there are two ways to think of it. One, as a cosmetic challenge that can transform you from a person with normal standards of what constitutes acceptable footwear into a wedding guest who shows up in Crocs.

Or, more technically, per the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons:“A bunion forms when the bones that make up the metatarsophalangeal joint move out of alignment,” the website reads.

“The long metatarsal bone shifts toward the inside of the foot, and the phalanx bones of the big toe angle toward the second toe. The MTP joint gets larger and protrudes from the inside of the forefoot.”

Since accepting that I am a person with a bunion, I’ve seen things that no one without a doctorate in podiatry should. On Facebook, there’s a bunion support group, which you’d think would provide community, but it’s so disturbing that after a few minutes I had to look away. I encountered selfies of bumps that were bigger than the foot itself, and of surgery scars that looked like the result of battlefield operations. Some big toes had gone so bananas they were splayed over or under toe number two — practically perpendicular to the foot.

But the pictures were easier to take than the despair. If you find yourself in a hip replacement support group, it’s the joy that will strike you. “I got my life back!” “Wish I hadn’t waited so long!” But the bunion people? They’re full of doom.

“Had surgery 7 mo. Ago. Worse than before,” reads a not atypical post in the bunion support group. “I had to get a $2700 bone stimulator. DO NOT HAVE SURGERY.”

Who can blame them? Consider my experience. I was momentarily excited to learn from New York’s famed Hospital for Special Surgery that there’s a new procedure that MAY be appropriate (qualifying for this now counts as “so lucky!!!”).

But even that’s no picnic.

Yes, the surgeon who wrote the piece on the website emphasizes that she uses a burr instead of a saw, but words like screws and fusion and repositioning are mentioned, and then there was this: “Typically, minimally invasive surgery patients can walk in normal sneakers after about six ... or eight weeks … (compared to 10 to 12 weeks after open surgery).”

Six or eight weeks until you’re walking in sneakers?

If you Google “celebrities with bunions,” as one does, you’ll be rewarded with lists of A-listers with D-list feet. Catherine Zeta-Jones, Oprah, Meghan Markle, Gwyneth Paltrow herself.

The stories feature pictures of stars looking glamorous — and then they move in for the gotcha shot: a close-up of actresses’ feet, a bunion sticking underneath the strap of a sandal or ruining the sleek lines of a high-end stiletto.

How unacceptable is the condition? Even Gwyneth isn’t trying to become a bunion influencer. Her site, Goop, sells a $2,000 infrared heat and hot gemstones mat, and a $28 tube of foot cream — but none of the toe separators, gel pads, toe resistance bands, or crazy-looking splints intended to wrench your big toe into submission that populate Amazon’s crowded bunion category.

In addition to being female and of a certain age, bunion risk factors include being overweight, indulging in high heels, having rheumatoid arthritis, and being related to someone with a bunion, according to podiatrist William McCann.

I thought back to my mother’s bunion surgery, when she was the age I am now. I look back on that period fondly — it was before the advent of streaming, and we happily mock-watched the British sitcom “The Vicar of Dibley” — but until a few days ago, I didn’t realize the implications for my own feet. I didn’t know that a bunion was coming for me.

As I write, I’m tracking delivery of one of those Amazon toe correctors. It’s a medieval-looking splint-and-wire contraption that looks so bad I figured it’s got to work.

Alas, when I ran it by McCann, the immediate past president of the New Hampshire Podiatric Medical Association, he told me that no device can reduce a bunion (although they can alleviate discomfort). But the good news is that while most people think they need surgery, non-operative treatments can frequently help them avoid it.

And besides, bunions typically grow slowly — meaning that I may have decades before mine goes so rogue that it requires surgical intervention. At this point, I’m hoping to beat it to the grave.

Beth Teitell can be reached at [email protected]. Follow her @bethteitell.