It Wasn’t Luck. It Was a Woman.

I had a conversation at a craft market at the weekend that I can’t quite let go of. Not because it was dramatic or confrontational, but because of a single word that kept coming up.

Luck.

The Conversation

I was chatting to a man, a genuinely nice chap. He was telling me about a project he’s working on to help young people from deprived backgrounds get into work. Building tools to match them with careers based on what they enjoy, what they’re good at, what they might realistically aspire to —proper, meaningful work. The kind of thing that actually makes a difference.

His Origin Story

He told me how he got to his comfortable position in life. As a kid, he was — in his words — off the rails: stealing cars; joyriding; petty theft; heading, quite clearly, in one direction. And then something changed.

"I Got Lucky."

He told me about the moment everything worked out. His mum — a single parent and carer for his sister, who had a long-term medical condition, was taking them to an appointment. She told him to go to a shop up the road and ask for a job. Not suggest. Not encourage. Instructed.

Go in. Tell them you need a job. Tell them why.

So he did. And they gave him one. And that, he said, is what changed his life.

And Then He Said It Again

“I just got lucky.”

And again.

“Not everyone gets that lucky.”

And again.

“I was one of the lucky ones.”

The Bit That Didn’t Sit Right

Because yes — there’s an element of chance in life: timing, opportunity, encountering the person who says yes. But this didn’t feel like luck to me. Not really.

What Actually Happened

A woman — already carrying more than her fair share — looked at her son and decided:

this is not how this story ends

She didn’t wait. She didn’t hope. She intervened. Directly. Decisively. And she changed the trajectory of his life.

But We Call It Luck

Because that’s easier. Because “luck” is neutral. It doesn’t require us to examine:

• who did the work

• who made the decision

• who carried the responsibility

It smooths everything out into something accidental.

So I Said It

Because I have, at best, a limited filter. I said:

“That’s not luck though, is it. That’s having a strong woman for a mother who made you the man you are.”

The Reaction

He went a bit quiet. Not defensive. Not rude. Just slightly unsettled. Like I’d challenged his perspective on something in a way he hadn’t really thought about before.

He’d clearly told that story hundreds of times, and no one had interrupted it, let alone reframed it. No one had said:

hang on — you’re assigning credit to the wrong place

Why This Matters

Because this isn’t really about one conversation. It’s about how often women’s influence is:

• absorbed

• softened

• or subtally rewritten as circumstance

Not necessarily intentionally or with malice. Just habitually.

The Narrative We Prefer

We like stories about grit, resilience, and individual success. We’re less comfortable with stories about intervention, guidance and being shaped by someone else. Especially when that someone is a woman doing what women so often do:

holding things together behind the scenes

And If You Start Looking For It…

You see it everywhere. Success stories that lean heavily on:

“I got lucky”

When what they often mean is:

She stepped in and pushed me. She refused to let things slide

It Doesn’t Make His Story Less Impressive

That’s the thing: acknowledging her role doesn’t take anything away from him. If anything, it makes the story richer. More accurate. More complete.

It Just Reattributes the Credit

From something vague and accidental, to something deliberate.

And That Feels Important

Because the way we tell stories shapes what we value, and if we keep calling these moments “luck,” we keep missing the people who made them happen.

Where This Connects (Because It Does)

This is Everyday Womtras. My work isn't about big, obvious moments. It's the smaller ones where you think:

hang on… that’s not quite right

...and calling it out. The saying of the thing that slightly disrupts the script.

It wasn’t luck. It was a woman who refused to let her son waste his life. And that deserves to be named properly.

At Everyday Womtras, a lot of what I create comes from moments like this — the ones where something feels slightly off, slightly mislabelled, slightly misunderstood, and instead of letting it pass, I turn it into something that says:

no — let’s call this what it actually is

Explore the collection, because sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is extinguish the existential soufflé and perhaps reconsider your life choices.