THE ONES WHO DARED
THE ONES WHO DARED PODCAST Elevating stories of courage. You can listen to some of the most interesting stories of courage, powerful life lessons, and aha moments. Featuring interviews with leaders, pioneers and people who have done hard things. I hope these stories help pave the path for you to live out your courageous life.
THE ONES WHO DARED
Introducing a new series | THE WOMEN BEFORE ME | Nominate a WOMAN of impact
I’m launching a new series called The Women Before Me and I’m looking for women with a story to tell.
This is a generational storytelling project designed to celebrate the powerful women who shaped us.
Each episode invites a guest to bring forward a woman from their lineage biological or chosen and share who she was, what she taught, the impact she made.
These are the stories often told in kitchens, car rides, and the type of stories that rarely make it onto a microphone but leave a lasting impact.
This series bridges generations, honors passed down wisdom, and inspires the women to come.
It’s not about Not your story…
but her story.
The mother, grandmother, aunt, mentor, or soul-sister who shaped you.
The woman whose courage, lessons, or love still ECHOS in your life today.
If there’s a woman you wish the world knew,
If there’s a story you’ve carried but never shared,
I want to honor her with you.
This is your invitation to be a guest on the show
To highlight her name, Share her impact,
And inspire the next generation of women who are still becoming.
Each episode brings you one woman’s story
told by the person whose life she touched.
Not celebrities.
Not icons.
Just the real heroes: The Women
To be clear you don’t have to be a woman to nominate, sons, grandsons and men are also encouraged to share about the women who shaped you, and she can still be in your life or passed on. The purpose is to highlight that ONE woman who made the greatest impact in your life. I want to know how, what did she do that stood out, that left a lasting impact.
TO NOMINATE A WOMAN IN YOUR go to my instagram sveta_popov and send this DM “The Women”
If you do not have instagram go to the description portion of this podcast episode and scroll to the bottom until you see.
A like that says “send us a text” click on that and type in “The Women” and tell me why she deserved to be nominated, what I am looking for is
- What was she like in three words?
- What lesson from her became part of your DNA?
- What do you want the world to know about her, and why was she so special to you?
- Tell me a short story, don’t just say she was a hard worker and taught me to work hard. No show me, take me into the scene of when it happened, how did she teach you to work hard? Captivate me with her character. So that the listeners can be impacted too..
- Whats one think she did that you thought was dumb, but now you see value as an adult..
THIS IS YOUR SHOT TO SHOUT ABOUT HER FROM THE ROOFTOPS!
Roday, I want to highlight THE WOMEN who made me: My mother
One unusual thing my mom did which ended up saving my life on more than one occasion.
This is actually a chapter I wrote for my book, that may or may not make it into the final manuscript, and my agent may or may not be upset for giving you an early preview.
So bear with me as I do the unusual thing and read to you a story that took place in the former Soviet Union.
-Links-
https://www.svetkapopov.com/
https://www.instagram.com/svetka_popov/
Welcome to the Ones of Dear Podcast. I'm your host, Sebca, and I am so thrilled to announce a new podcast series that I'm launching called The Woman Before Me. And this is unique because this is where you actually get to be a possible participant because I am looking for woman with a story to tell. This is a generational storytelling project designed to celebrate the powerful woman who shaped us. Each episode invites a guest to bring forward a woman from the lineage, biological or chosen, and share who she was, what she taught, and the impact that she made. These are the stories that are often told in kitchens, car rides, and the type of stories that rarely make it into the microphone, but they leave a lasting impact. This series bridges generations, honors past down wisdom, and inspires the woman to come. This is not about your story, but her story. The mother, the grandmother, the aunt, mentor, soul sister who shaped you. The woman whose courage, lessons, and love still echoes in your life today. If there's a woman you wish the world knew, if there's a story you carried but never shared, I want to honor her with you. This is your invitation to be a guest on the show to highlight her name, share her impact, and inspire the next generation of women who are still becoming. Each episode brings you one woman's story told by the person whose life she touched. Not celebrities, not icons, just the real heroes. The woman. To be clear, you don't have to be a woman to nominate. Sons, grandsons, and men are also welcome to share about the woman who shaped them. And also she can still be active and alive in your life, or she may have passed on. The purpose is to highlight one woman who made the greatest impact in your life. I want to know how. What did she do that stood out? What was the lasting impact that she left in your life? I'm about to share with you guys an unusual story, one that I have not shared on here about the woman who impacted me. But before I do that, I want to give you instructions on how you can nominate the woman in your life. Go to my Instagram account, which is Svetka, that's S-V-E-T-K-A underscore P-O-P-O-V, and send me this DM, the woman, and tell me why she should be chosen as someone to highlight. And if you don't have Instagram, go to description portion of this podcast episode and scroll down to the bottom of the page where all you'll see send us a text link. And then there type the woman and tell me why she deserves to be nominated. What I'm looking for is what was she like in three words? What lessons from her became part of your DNA? What do you want the world to know about her and why was she so special to you? Tell me a short story. Don't just say she was a hard worker and taught me how to work hard. No, show me, take me into a scene of what happened. How did she teach you how to work hard? Captivate me with her character so that the listeners can be captivated as well. What's one thing she did that you possibly thought was really dumb, but now you see the value in that? Don't we all have that sometimes? So this is your shot to shout about her from the rooftops. I'm giving you an opportunity to highlight the women in your life and tell us about the impact that they made. And guess what? By you sharing on the lessons that they taught us, we can also learn together. And so back to the woman who impacted my life. Of course, like most guests who'll be on here, I could speak of all the women from my grandmother who taught me unwavering faith by example, by staying true to her convictions in the Soviet Union when it was illegal, which landed her in prison. And there she even shared her faith. I can also tell you about my aunts who taught me how to have fun and not take life too seriously by sharing silly stories or taking me on roller coaster rides, etc. But today I want to highlight the woman who made me my mother. Now I know that some of you listening may not have had good relationships with your mother, and I'm truly sorry for that. I hope it only encourages you to be the woman you wished you had in your life, whether it's to your girlfriends, your own kids, or your friends' kids. While my mom was one of the hardest working people I know, she was a Wonder Woman in her own right. She raised 10 kids practically as a single parent. She has started out as a seamstress and sewed clothes for us when we slept and for her clients, and she measured her clientele by day. She made fruit lathers on the sun from the fruit trees in her backyard. She took on any job opportunity she saw come her way, from opening a daycare in her home to selling products that her friends or other people promised an income. And it ranged from anywhere from the rainbow vacuum. I don't know if you guys remember the rainbow vacuum that was this magic vacuum cleaner that was way overpriced, that promised to be the only vacuum on the planet to get rid of bed bugs that you apparently swallowed in your sleep. She also sold German knives and whey, and the list goes on and on and on. She also opened up her own business selling imported European food. And later in life, she drove as an Uber driver. That's right. And she made friends with all the strangers in her broken English. And I love that about my mom. She was so hospitable and no one was a stranger after talking to her. But this is not the unusual story I want to share with you today. The unusual thing my mom did, which ended up saving my life on more than one occasion. And I don't know if this is common in other families, but you tell me. If any of your parents or moms did this, our nighttime ritual was one that she would gather us around the living room at night and share stories. Sometimes she read books, has many lessons about life, character, they'd be devotionals with all sorts of insights. But then she would also share some really scary stories about psychokillers who are real, who kidnapped kids. And she would also go into some details that were a little terrifying as a kid about how those bodies were found of these kids in the woods. And she would share the different techniques these predators use to entice kids to come to them by offering them something like candy or toys or something that appealed to a kid's heart. She told us to never talk to strangers or ever stop when an adult asked you for directions from their car. These stories haunted us but left us pretty vigilant for any potential threat to our safety. Because she shared this with us, it prevented me from being kidnapped on a train station once when I was five years old. But the story I want to highlight with you is one of the earliest memories I had with my mom and how one particular bedtime story equipped me to properly spawn to a situation that would have gone really wrong. This is actually a chapter in the book that I wrote that may or may not have ever made into a book. And my agent may or may not be really upset for giving you an early preview, so bear with me as I do the unusual thing and read you a story that took place in the former Soviet Union. Okay, to set the story up, this took place in the early 1900s as Gorbachev's Petistroika reforms broke down the Soviet command economy and legalized small private trade. Everyday people began selling imported goods out of trucks and parking lots, creating the first chaotic but vibrant markets of the post-Soviet era. And my mom got word of imported shoes that were coming to a train station just a few miles from her home. M6. Rushing through the streets of Krematorsk, Ukraine, the former Soviet Union, determined to keep up with my mom's hurried steps. My legs grow tired as we pass the liquor store where a man is passed up by the entrance. But I don't let it worry me. As the oldest daughter, I savor every second of the girls' shopping trip with mom. That's why I don't complain, even as my feet grow sore from the long walk through the cold, winter wind. Eventually we turn the corner to find a mob of women near the grocery store where mom usually waits in a long line to buy bread. Today, there is no line, just chaos. She tightens her grip on my hand as the crowd rush around us in the parking lot. As usual, my mother stands out from the others, showing her true fashion sense even here in the Soviet Union. She wears a mink ferberate, caps landed to the side in her stark contrast to her tailor wool coat. She has tucked her black hair beneath the rim, letting only a few strands hang gently to her well-defined cheekbones. A look that compliments her dark eyes and thick brows. It's no secret that people think my mom is beautiful. Even now, as the frenzy mounts around us, people turn their heads as if they are struck by her captivating features. Of course, it's not just her beauty that sets her apart. She's widely known as a gifted seamstress, sewing dresses for clients each day to help support her family. Her love for fashion is what brought us here, pushing our way through the crowd of anxious women who, like mom, seem to want more than a stores here in the Soviet Union offer us. In time we reach the unmarked box truck, the size of an average U-Haul. About fifty shoppers swarm the vehicle, eagerly anticipating the opening of the big back door. A large man steps out of the truck and pulls out a thick pair of black gloves. Speaking in Russian, he orders everyone to get out of the way. Ateiditi. With force, he moves to the cargo area where the women are already waving their hands in the air. As soon as he opens the latch, they push and shove in competition to reach the agitated dealer. Don't let go of me, Svet, mom says sternly. I grip her hand like my life depends on it, determined not to be separated in the mayhem. Just as I began to fear for my safety, I spot a strange sight. Because I only come up to my mom's waist, I can see what other women can't. This is how I spot a strange man walking through the crowd holding a sharp blade extended beyond his dirty fingers. My eyes go wide as he slashes into a woman's bag, carving an opening large enough to reach in and steal her money. My breath quickens as I remember the story mom recently told us during one of our nightly family gatherings. She gathered my siblings and me around her lap as we do each evening. But this particular night, she played a cassette about a blind girl who lost her eyes when an evil man had cut them with his razor. Not your typical bad time story, but in a place like this, my mom needs her children to be aware of the ever-present dangers. Story has become her way of teaching us the life lessons that will equip us to stay safe in the world. Little does she know that I've been haunted for weeks by the thoughts of the girl who lost her eyes to a man's razor blade. Now here I am standing eye level with the actual bad guy with a razor blade. The fear grips me tight. As the razor wielding thief moves closer towards us, I know better than to cause a scene. Even at such a tender age, I know not to anger a dangerous man. He could be capable of anything, and I don't want to end up like the blind girl in the story. Careful not to draw this man's attention, I tug my mom's coat sleeve as the robber continues slashing back through the crowd. She leans down to me and I whisper, There's a guy with a razor and he's stealing people's money. Some parents might ignore their child in a moment like this, remaining too singularly focused on the mad scramble for black market shoes, or others may feel irritated by the call for attention or doubt my claims. But mom doesn't question me. Instead, she follows my gaze to the man, and together we watch him nonchalantly shift from woman to woman. No one else seems to notice his scam, and we're not about to point him out. That would likely put our lives in danger as well as anyone within proximity of his razor. Nothing is worth that risk. Mom gives me a quick nod and pulls me towards the opposite side of the crowd. Only when the man can no longer be seen do we come to a stop. Relieved to be standing a safe distance from the blade, I exhale and figure that I get to keep my eyes today. But as we move closer to the truck, I'm not sure Mom will be keeping her money. Even if the robber doesn't get it, the guy with the black market goods is sure to have his share. We're almost there, she reassures me as we finally make our way to the front of the line. When her turn comes, she steps towards the rusted tailgate, eyes the remaining shoe box, and questions a scuffy dealer. Are you sure they're really tallying leather? Da, he says, reassuring her, they are the finest quality. Do you want them or not? He impatiently looks at the next customer. Mom hesitates just for a second, but then she hands the gloved man her hard-earned cash, counting out each ruble in exchange for a beautiful pair of blue high heels. With her stylish shoes in hand, we rush out of the hectic crowd in anticipation for her to try them on at home. Along the way, Mom beams, displaying her joy right out in the open. Can you believe this? Real Italian leather. She nearly skips her step as if she's won the prize of a lifetime. Several miles later, we finally reach her house where I plop onto the living room sofa to rest my tired legs. Mom sits too, but only because she can't wait to try her new shoes. My siblings crowd around us as she hurries to open the box. Aren't they wonderful? She raves again about the special color and how they came straight from Italy. Then she pulls one shoe on her left foot and the other on her right foot. But something's not adding up. Her brows furrow as my brothers and sister can't stop touching the expensive loot. We're all taken back when mom's face turns red. He tricked me, she says, kicking her shoes off in disappointment. Sure enough, she's been sold two shoes for the left foot. The right shoe doesn't fit. So this is the story of Mom and I, and how her scary stories has really prevented me from being in a situation that could have gone really wrong. And I possibly could have lost my eyes that day. So again, if you want to nominate the woman in your life, go to my Instagram account. That's S-V-E-T-K-A underscore P-O-P-O-V. Svecka underscore popov. And send this DM, the woman. Again, if you do not have Instagram, go to the description portion of the podcast episode and scroll down to the very bottom until you see a link that says send us a text. Click on that link and type the woman and let me know why she deserves to be nominated. Thank you so much for listening to my story, and I can't wait to see how this series will impact many people. Thank you for listening to the One So Here Podcast. It is an honor to share these encouraging stories with you. If you enjoy the show, I would love for you to tell your friends, leave us a reviewer rating, and subscribe to wherever you listen to podcasts because this helps others discover the show. You can find me on my website, speccapop.com.