COLUMN: A French Woman Soars Toward the Stars and Reminds Us What It Means to Be Bold

An Extended Stay on the International Space Station

The Epsilon mission was originally scheduled to last six months. It has been extended to nine months. Nine months aboard the ISS, that orbital laboratory hurtling at 28,000 km/h 400 kilometers above our heads. Sophie Adenot will conduct scientific experiments there in a variety of fields: biology, materials physics, and space medicine. She will also test new equipment and participate in spacewalks if necessary. But beyond the protocols and scientific objectives lies a harsh reality: nine months without gravity, without fresh air, without being able to step outside for a coffee on a terrace. Nine months in a confined space, with an international crew. Two Americans, one Russian, and her. Four humans suspended between heaven and earth, dependent on one another for their survival.

Nine months. The length of a pregnancy. The time it takes to create a life. She’ll spend that time living in a vacuum, defying the laws of nature. And meanwhile, we’ll keep complaining about the crowded subway, the boss who gets on our nerves, the lousy weather. I’m not saying this to make us feel guilty. I’m saying this because sometimes we need a little perspective. A little distance. And Sophie Adenot is going to give us that distance. Literally.

The Technical Incident That Shook the Mission

Last Monday, a SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket experienced an anomaly during a flight to deploy communications satellites. One engine failed to ignite properly. While not catastrophic, it was enough for SpaceX to temporarily suspend all flights of this rocket model. The investigation was swift. The Federal Aviation Administration, the U.S. aviation regulator, gave the green light on Friday after SpaceX identified the cause—a ignition failure—and implemented corrective measures. The Falcon 9s are once again authorized to fly. The February 11 launch is confirmed. Two backup launch windows are scheduled for February 12 and 13, in case weather conditions or a last-minute technical issue necessitate a postponement. But for now, everything is a go.

Can you imagine the anxiety? You’re ready. You’ve spent years preparing. Your family, your loved ones—everyone is waiting for this moment. And then, just a few days before the big launch, you’re told, “Wait, there’s a problem.” Doubt sets in. What if it doesn’t happen? What if all that work, all those sacrifices, were for nothing? But no. Sophie Adenot held her ground. She waited. And now, she’s ready to climb into that rocket, sit atop thousands of metric tons of fuel, and let herself be propelled toward infinity. That takes guts. It takes a kind of courage that most of us will never have.

A Long Wait for French Women

The last time a French woman went into space was in 2001. Claudie Haigneré, a doctor and astronaut, had completed her second spaceflight aboard the International Space Station. Before that, in 1996, she had become the first French woman in space, aboard the Russian space station Mir. Since then, nothing. Twenty-five years of silence. Twenty-five years during which French men have continued to fly—led by Thomas Pesquet, who has become a true star—but during which no woman has had that opportunity. It’s not for lack of qualified candidates. It’s just that spots are scarce, and the selection process is ruthless. And, let’s be honest, unconscious biases still exist, even in the most progressive circles. Sophie Adenot is shattering this space-age glass ceiling. She’s reopening a door that had remained closed for far too long.

Twenty-five years. An entire generation. Thousands of little girls who grew up believing that space was for boys. Or for American women. But not for them. Not for French women. And now, Sophie Adenot is telling them: “Yes, it is possible. Look at me. I’m here. I’m going to do it.” And that is immense. It changes everything. Because when we see someone who looks like us accomplish the impossible, we tell ourselves that maybe we, too, can attempt the impossible. Each of us on our own scale, each of us in our own way.

Four astronauts, four nationalities, one goal

Sophie Adenot won’t be alone in SpaceX’s Crew Dragon capsule. She’ll be joined by two American astronauts and a Russian cosmonaut. Four people, four cultures, four languages. But a single goal: to successfully complete the Crew-12 mission and contribute to scientific research aboard the ISS. This international cooperation is one of the most inspiring aspects of the space program. While geopolitical tensions on Earth continue to escalate, up there in space, Americans and Russians are working together. They share the same air, the same food, and the same risks. They depend on one another. And it works. For more than twenty years, the ISS has been a symbol of what humanity can achieve when it chooses to collaborate rather than tear itself apart.

It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It’s almost naive, it’s so beautiful. While our leaders argue, threaten one another, and wage war, up there, men and women from all walks of life are working together. They stick together. They save each other’s lives when necessary. And they prove to us that yes, it is possible. That humanity isn’t doomed to hatred and division. That we can do better. That we must do better. Sophie Adenot, by boarding this rocket, isn’t just representing France. She represents that part of us that refuses to give up, that still believes in something greater.

Nine months in zero gravity, nine months of transformation

Living in space is no walk in the park. The human body isn’t built for it. Without gravity, muscles atrophy and bones become brittle. Astronauts must exercise for two hours a day, every day, to limit the damage. Even so, they lose muscle and bone mass. The cardiovascular system changes. The face swells, and the legs become thinner. Body fluids shift upward toward the upper body, creating a constant feeling of congestion. And then there’s radiation. The ISS is shielded, but not completely. Astronauts are exposed to radiation levels far higher than those we experience on Earth. This increases the long-term risk of cancer. Psychologically, too, it’s grueling. The isolation, the confinement, the distance from loved ones. Days that all blend together. The lack of sensory stimulation. Some astronauts develop sleep disorders, anxiety, or even depression.

And she knows it. Sophie Adenot knows all of this. She knows what lies ahead. The pain, the fatigue, the loneliness. She knows she’s going to suffer. That her body is going to take a beating. That some days will be unbearable. And yet she’s going anyway. Because the dream is stronger than the fear. Because curiosity is stronger than pain. Because she’s understood something that many of us have forgotten: that life—real life—is found where we’re afraid. Where we doubt. Where we push ourselves beyond our limits.

From Basic Research to Practical Applications

Aboard the ISS, Sophie Adenot will conduct dozens of scientific experiments. Some focus on biology: How do cells behave in microgravity? How do bacteria evolve? Others concern materials physics: Can we create alloys that are impossible to produce on Earth? Purer crystals? There is also medical research: How does the human body adapt to the absence of gravity? What medications could help astronauts better tolerate long-duration flights? And then there are the technologies: new systems for recycling water and air; lighter, more efficient equipment. All of this may seem abstract and distant. But this research has practical applications. Technologies developed for space often end up being used on Earth—ultra-durable materials, water purification systems, innovative medical techniques. Space is a giant laboratory that benefits all of humanity.

That’s what fascinates me about space exploration. It’s not just a matter of ego, national prestige, or “who has the biggest rocket.” No. It’s a quest for knowledge. A desire to understand, to make progress, to push the boundaries. And Sophie Adenot, by participating in these experiments, is contributing to that. She’s advancing science. She’s advancing humanity. And that is infinitely more important than all the political rhetoric and all the fruitless controversies that clutter our screens.

When a Woman Leads the Way to the Stars

Sophie Adenot isn’t just an astronaut. She’s a symbol. A role model. Living proof that even the wildest dreams can come true. For the young girls who look up to her, she embodies possibility. The possibility of becoming an engineer, a pilot, an astronaut. The possibility of refusing to be confined to predefined roles. The possibility of choosing their own lives, their own destinies. But she is also a symbol for boys. For all those who think that space, science, and adventure are reserved for an elite few. Sophie Adenot shows them that this isn’t true. That it takes hard work, perseverance, and courage. But that it’s within reach. That all it takes is wanting it—truly wanting it. And never giving up. In a world where young people are often disillusioned, where the future seems bleak, where crises are piling up, Sophie Adenot brings a message of hope. She tells us: “Look. We can still dream. We can still accomplish great things. We can still believe in humanity.”

And God knows we need this message. We need these role models who remind us that we are capable of greatness. That we are not condemned to mediocrity, resignation, or cynicism. Sophie Adenot, as she soars into space, reaches out her hand to us. She tells us: “Come. Dare. Live.” And that is a priceless gift. A gift we should cherish, celebrate, and pass on.

A rendezvous with history and with ourselves

On Wednesday, February 11, 2026, at 12:01 p.m. Paris time, a rocket will lift off. And with it, a part of us will soar as well—a part that still believes in dreams, in challenges, and in the impossible. Sophie Adenot won’t be alone in that capsule. She’ll carry with her the hopes of millions of people. The dreams of all those little girls who want to become astronauts. The aspirations of all those young people searching for their path. The emotions of all those who, like me, need to believe that humanity can still achieve great things. So on that day, let’s take a few minutes. Let’s pause. Let’s look up at the sky. And let’s think of her. Of Sophie Adenot, this extraordinary woman who is going to spend nine months in space to advance science, to push the boundaries, to show us the way. And let’s tell ourselves that if she can do it, then we too, in our own small way, can dare. We can dream. We can live life to the fullest.

On February 11, I’ll be in front of my screen. I’ll watch that launch. And I’ll probably cry. Not out of sadness. Out of joy. Out of emotion. Out of pride. Because Sophie Adenot represents all of us. She is the best version of ourselves. The one who isn’t afraid. The one who goes for it. The one who believes. And as I watch her take flight, I’ll tell myself that yes, life is still worth living. That yes, there is still beauty in this world. That yes, we can still be filled with wonder. So thank you, Sophie. Thank you for reminding us what it means to dare. Thank you for showing us the stars. Have a safe journey. And come back to us soon.

Signed, Jacques Provost