My husband’s NASA job ended, and I felt relief

We had spent more than seven years in Albuquerque, where I had finally found friends, routines, schools and places we loved. When my husband began searching for a job, I was ready to leave New Mexico. I missed grass, thunderstorms and being close enough to drive to family. He, however, wanted a more fulfilling role than his middle-management job, even though it let him come home for dinner and handle preschool drop-off three days a week.

The NASA position on Virginia’s Eastern Shore was the job he had dreamed of since he was a preteen. I agreed to the move, proud of him but grieving the community we were leaving. The transition brought six weeks apart, belongings in storage, temporary housing that could take our dog and cat, and more than 100 houseplants I had to rehome. Friends in New Mexico helped us pack, drove our 5-year-old to preschool, arranged playdates and brought dinner.

In Greenbackville, a town of fewer than 500 people, I was exhausted and struggling with the distance to everyday amenities. The nearest full-sized grocery store or coffee shop was 45 minutes away, and hunting-season gunshots woke us each morning. While my husband worked among people focused on space exploration, I drove past chicken farms and crops grown to feed them. I felt that his new career was costing me the life I needed.

By summer 2024, the Virginia location was slated for downsizing of more than 80%, after federal job cuts began following the change in administration in mid-January and the creation of DOGE. When the planned cuts became clear, I felt both heartbroken for my husband and relieved. His NASA career was ending through no fault of his own, but the change spared us from choosing between his profession and my daily well-being.

We stayed in Greenbackville until the lease ended. After considering Albuquerque and places closer to family in the Northeast without finding a clear direction, we decided to leave in an RV and explore what came next for our family.