It sounds like a joke. A headline pulled straight out of a comedy sketch. “Astronauts wear condoms in space.” But behind the laughs and raised eyebrows is a story that’s as real as the vacuum of space—and far more human than you’d expect.

Because in the zero-gravity environment of space, even the simplest things become incredibly complicated. Including something as basic, as unavoidable, as needing to pee.

Welcome to life aboard the International Space Station, where high-tech satellites orbit Earth, astronauts conduct billion-dollar experiments, and someone, somewhere, is quietly attaching what NASA lovingly calls a “condom-like device” to their body—just to go to the bathroom.

So why do they do it?

The answer lies in the brutal, unrelenting laws of physics. On Earth, gravity helps fluids flow downward. But in space, where gravity is nearly nonexistent, urine doesn’t “fall”—it floats. That means if you don’t capture it the moment it leaves the body, it could float around inside the spacecraft… a nightmare scenario for hygiene, health, and morale.

NASA’s solution? A surprisingly low-tech, but brilliant workaround: the Maximum Absorbency Garment (MAG) for women and a Urine Collection Device (UCD) for men—essentially a plastic tube attached to a condom-shaped sheath that collects urine through suction and routes it to a storage tank.

And here’s where the story gets even stranger.

When designing the UCD, NASA realized that, well, not all astronauts are built the same. So, in an awkward meeting no doubt filled with nervous laughter, they introduced sizing options for the “condom” portion of the system. But instead of using the standard “Small,” “Medium,” and “Large” sizes, they went with:

“Large,” “Extra Large,” and “Extra Extra Large.”

Why? Because no astronaut wanted to be handed a “small.” Even in space, ego survives.

“It was a psychological trick,” admitted one retired NASA engineer. “No one wants to admit they’re small, even when it’s about a urine device.”

And so, buried in the files of one of the most advanced space agencies on Earth, is a very human truth: astronauts, for all their courage and brilliance, are still people. They feel embarrassment. They laugh. They joke. And they, too, want to avoid awkward sizing labels.

But make no mistake—this isn’t a joke for them. The “space condom” system is critical. Urine buildup or failure in waste management can not only damage spacecraft systems, it can make astronauts sick.

During long spacewalks—called EVAs (Extra Vehicular Activities)—astronauts wear their suits for up to 8 hours straight. Removing the suit mid-mission to urinate? Impossible. So, the condom system inside the suit collects waste discreetly, keeping everything contained.

“It’s not glamorous,” one former astronaut said with a shrug, “but it works. And when you’re floating hundreds of miles above Earth, what works is what matters.”

Interestingly, female astronauts initially faced more challenges. The original UCD was designed for male anatomy, and it took years before NASA developed better systems for women. Early designs often failed, causing leaks or discomfort. It wasn’t until female astronauts pushed for better solutions that the MAG—a glorified space diaper—became the norm. It’s absorbent, leak-proof, and allows female astronauts to go about their duties without interruption.

And today, both male and female astronauts use a combination of these systems based on mission type, duration, and personal comfort.

Back on Earth, the idea still provokes giggles. It feels so absurd—condoms in space? Really?

But maybe that’s the charm of it.

Because in the middle of a galaxy of stars and black holes, beyond the silence of orbit and the glory of cosmic exploration, we’re reminded of something humbling:

No matter how far we go, we take our bodies with us.

We take our biology, our limitations, and our humanity into the stars. And we solve them not with shame, but with ingenuity, humor, and a touch of grace.

When you see astronauts waving to cameras, floating through the ISS, or stepping onto the Moon, remember this: their suits are not just shields—they’re portable life-support ecosystems, complete with heating, cooling, oxygen, and yes… a system to pee without gravity’s help.

So the next time someone asks, “Do astronauts wear condoms in space?”
The answer is: Yes. But not for what you think.
Not for love.
Not for intimacy.
But for dignity. For science.
For the simple, beautiful act of being human… in the most inhuman place imaginable.

Because space doesn’t care who you are, how rich you are, or how famous.
In zero gravity, everyone has to go.
And thanks to a little latex sheath and a lot of engineering, they can—cleanly, safely, and without letting a single drop float free.

Welcome to the quiet, awkward, essential truth behind astronaut life.
Not just rocket science.
Rocket survival.