Author: Elizabeth Newdom

It took me a long while to consider the title for this blog. I wanted something that defined me both as a person and a writer. A name that would also perhaps speak to a particular audience. Why “The Astronaut Wife?” Since my early days of blogging, I have leaned toward more of a confessional style of writing, to some degree. I write as much truth as I can muster at each phase of life. In addition, I also come from a conservative Southern family, and I have grown very far from those roots. You could say I have rocketed to the moon in terms of my upbringing. I have rocketed away from debilitating family dynamics, from worldviews that held me beneath a rock. In my thirties, and now my early to mid-forties, I have learned to live more comfortably with both sides of the moon and write just as much about the raw, dark places as the light ones. Don’t quote me on that, though. It’s quite likely I will lean more heavily toward one or the other depending on which way the wind is blowing. Then, we get to the wife part, and quite frankly, this is where the feminist in me bucked and brayed. Identifying myself as “wife” has felt simply stymieing, particularly since becoming a mother six and a half years ago. But if the truth is going to be told, being a wife to my particular husband has altered my entire shape and has given voice to much of the inner deep. So in fact, becoming a wife was the singular most life-changing moment for me in my journey to the moon and back. Fellow travelers, you can feel safe and comfortable here. What matters more than what you might “get” about me is what you might take for yourself.

Just Pause

August 9, 2019.Reading time 4 minutes.

I can’t keep track of days. How have more than 20 of them passed since I was here last, writing to you? The summer is winding down while still offering what feels like endless sunny days for us to bask in, for us to lose ourselves. Days to scrape together our coins for […]

What July Reminds Me

July 18, 2019.Reading time 3 minutes.

The cicadas are screaming. Or singing. Or something. The grass is brown in patches. Even the neighbors with the immaculate lawns and tidy gardens, trimmed just so, can’t escape this. The lilies have either died or been eaten by deer. This is what July feels like. But maybe I am getting too dark. I am […]

Blooming Stillness

July 9, 2019.Reading time 5 minutes.

When season 1 of The Handmaid’s Tale TV series came out, the first time I heard June’s internal dialogue, nostalgia popped open like a grape inside my mouth. This, I thought. This, is why I loved the book so much in my youth. Once again, I was hungry for more. More and more of June. Through […]

Come on In

June 19, 2019.Reading time 3 minutes.

I had this surreal experience today when listening to the Writing Class Radio podcast wherein they highlighted my latest essay on Motherwell. You may have found your way to this little blog via the podcast or the essay. No matter how long you’ve been reading The Astronaut Wife, I thank you. I feel overwhelmingly humbled. […]

Maybe This, is Wellness

June 11, 2019.Reading time 6 minutes.

I am not sure why I forget that summer is the ultimate season. Early summer, that is. Early summer, when the first fireflies appear. Early summer, when the lilies with their long stems and crimson petals begin to open. When days in Maryland can still feel breezy and mild. When the deer emerge from the […]

Together

June 7, 2019.Reading time 3 minutes.

Hello Readers: I have been avoiding this blog lately. On purpose. And I am sorry if you feel led on. Like you were used to keeping up with me this way. Maybe it’s the only way “we” keep in touch anymore. Or maybe you were led here because you saw this blog in my bio […]

The Truer Path

May 20, 2019.Reading time 3 minutes.

I have been playing hide and seek with writing about the real stuff of midlife for a few years now. Up to this point, I have mostly written about this stage with a mix of humor and a certain “Anne Lamott-ian” wisdom. (So, with the casual wit and style of an old hippy grandmother.) However, […]