Space is basically a vacuum. It’s a silent, freezing, radiation-soaked expanse that wants to kill you in about fifteen different ways the moment you step outside a pressurized hull. But if you ask an astronaut like Chris Hadfield or Peggy Whitson, they won't talk about the terror first. They’ll talk about the smell. Strangely enough, space has a scent. Astronauts returning from spacewalks often report that their suits and tools smell like seared steak, hot metal, or even welding fumes. It’s the smell of atomic oxygen clinging to the fabric.
When people ask what is it like in space, they usually imagine floating gracefully like a movie character. Reality is messier. It’s a constant battle against biology. Your body is a machine designed for 1g of gravity, and the second you remove that, your internal systems go haywire. Your fluids shift toward your head. Your face gets puffy—what NASA calls "Moon face"—and your legs get skinny because they aren't working to support your weight anymore.
The physical toll of microgravity
Living in a "weightless" environment is actually a misnomer. On the International Space Station (ISS), you aren't in zero gravity; you’re in constant freefall. This microgravity environment wreaks havoc on the human skeleton. Without the constant load of walking or standing, your bones start leaching calcium. You can lose about 1% to 1.5% of your bone mineral density every single month. That’s why astronauts have to strap themselves into specialized treadmills using bungee cords for two hours every day. If they didn't, their bones would become as brittle as a 90-year-old’s by the time they landed.
It’s not just bones. Your heart gets lazier. It doesn't have to pump blood "up" to your brain against the pull of gravity, so the heart muscle literally shrinks and changes shape over time. It becomes more spherical.
Why you can't just "sleep" in space
Sleeping is weird. You don't lie down. You zip yourself into a sleeping bag tethered to a wall so you don't drift into a sensitive instrument or a ventilation fan during the night. There’s no "up" or "down" orientation, so you might wake up feeling like you're falling, or find your arms floating in front of your face like a scene from a horror movie. Some astronauts find it incredibly peaceful; others find the lack of a pillow or the sensation of pressure on their backs deeply unsettling.
The sensory experience: What you actually see and hear
The silence isn't what you think. Inside a spacecraft, it’s never quiet. You’re surrounded by the constant hum of fans, pumps, and life-support systems. If those fans stop, you die. Literally. Without air circulation, the carbon dioxide you exhale forms a "bubble" around your head, and you can actually suffocate in your sleep.
Outside? That’s different. During a spacewalk, the silence is profound, broken only by the sound of your own breathing and the whir of your suit's cooling pump. The visual contrast is violent. There is no atmospheric scattering, so the shadows are pitch black and the sunlit areas are blindingly bright.
The Overview Effect is a real psychological phenomenon. It’s that cognitive shift reported by almost every traveler who looks back at Earth. You see a tiny, fragile blue marble protected by a "layer of onion skin" atmosphere. No borders. No politics. Just a lonely rock in a void. Scott Kelly, who spent a year in space, noted that seeing the planet from above changes your perspective on everything from climate change to human conflict. It makes Earth seem incredibly small and precious.
The radiation problem nobody likes to talk about
Earth’s magnetic field and atmosphere protect us from the sun’s harshest output. In low Earth orbit, the ISS still gets some protection, but astronauts are still hit with significantly higher doses of ionizing radiation than we are on the ground. They sometimes see "flashes" of light when they close their eyes—these are cosmic rays literally zipping through their eyeballs and hitting the retina.
If we ever go to Mars, this becomes the primary hurdle. Deep space radiation is a different beast entirely. Without the Earth's protection, the risk of cancer, central nervous system damage, and cataracts skyrocketed. It’s one of the main reasons the "what is it like in space" question gets darker the further you get from our planet.
Food, hygiene, and the "Toilet" issue
Let’s be honest. Everyone wants to know about the bathroom. In space, it’s all about suction. Since liquid doesn't "fall," the toilet uses a vacuum system to pull waste away from the body. Solid waste is compacted and stored (often burned up in the atmosphere later), while urine is recycled.
Yes, on the ISS, today’s coffee is tomorrow’s coffee. The Water Recovery System is so efficient that it turns sweat and urine back into drinkable water that is technically cleaner than most tap water on Earth.
Eating is its own challenge.
- No crumbs allowed: Bread is a nightmare because crumbs fly into electronics. Astronauts use tortillas instead.
- Condiments are liquid: Salt and pepper are dissolved in oil and water because you can't sprinkle powder in microgravity.
- Dulled senses: Because of the fluid shift to the head, astronauts often feel like they have a head cold. Their sense of taste is muted, which is why they crave hot sauce and spicy shrimp cocktail.
Mental health and the isolation of the void
Space is lonely. Even with a crew, you are trapped in a pressurized "tin can" with the same people for months. Privacy is non-existent. You are constantly being monitored by Ground Control. This creates a unique kind of psychological pressure. Astronauts are picked for their "expeditionary skills"—basically, being a good roommate in a high-stress environment.
Communication lag is the next big hurdle for deep space. When you're on the Moon, the delay is only a few seconds. On Mars, it could be 20 minutes each way. Imagine having an emergency and waiting 40 minutes for a "hello" back. That isolation changes the human psyche.
Practical Insights for Understanding Space
If you’re fascinated by the reality of orbital life, there are several ways to engage with the data we have now:
- Track the ISS: Use the "Spot the Station" app from NASA. Seeing it fly overhead at 17,500 mph makes the reality of space travel feel much more tangible.
- Read the Journals: Look for the published journals of astronauts like Jerry Linenger or Valery Ryumin. They offer a raw, unpolished look at the boredom and terror of long-duration flight.
- Study the "Twin Study": Research the results of the NASA Twin Study involving Scott and Mark Kelly. It’s the most comprehensive data set we have on how space changes human DNA and gene expression.
- Volunteer for Ground Studies: Organizations like the ESA and NASA often run "bed rest" studies where they pay volunteers to stay in a tilted bed for months to simulate the effects of fluid shift and bone loss.
Living in space isn't a vacation. It’s a high-stakes science experiment where you are the test subject. It requires a level of physical and mental resilience that most of us can barely fathom. Yet, despite the puffy faces, the radiation, and the recycled urine, every single person who has been there says the view makes it worth it. They don't see a void; they see home from a perspective that changes the soul.
To truly grasp what it's like, look up the next time the ISS passes over your city. There are humans in that tiny dot, traveling five miles every second, smelling of seared steak and staring at the curve of the world.