Barbara Allen

Wherever it is that I am writing- this is my optimal layout. I can spend an entire day, from the wee hours until after sunset, in the zone like that.

I have to be able to print multiple chapters out so I can manually sort through them and write notes old school style, in one or more notebooks. You can never have too many notebooks!

The laptop is my last stop.

In my other house , I used to tack a huge roll of paper on the wall all the way across, then slide my chair around to the point I needed, and make notes right there. I wrote a full book that way.

Dave Brown LOVES this about me. Lol

What does your creative process look like?

When is something funny, and when is it too far? Turns out this creates a lively debate. I welcome your opinion 👇

Last minute lap hugs with the last of my kids to head back to their own lives today.

My dog sometimes creeps me out, because she seems to feel exactly what I’m feeling.

In this instance it was the instinct to soak up every last hug we can.

I’m “used” to my kids being all grown up and well into paths of their own.

But I still bite back tears every time I watch their taillights fade.

And I always will 💜

It took me a long time to understand the difference between being asked to speak about Lou’s murder with all the traumatic ripple effects, and being asked to speak about all the lessons, beauty, inspiration, humor, and faith that taught me how to rebuild my life.

Stronger and more aware than before.

The national news anchors, morning talk show hosts, tv and movie producers and book agents couldn’t get enough of the murder story and even the capital court martial- until Lou’s killer was acquitted and the military buried the truth.

Then, all the promises and interest disappeared.

The personal texts and calls turned into personal assistants texting me instead, asking me to stop messaging the very people who once sought me out, had me rip open barely healed wounds for their sound bites, book contracts, film options and front page stories- their ratings.

One of the hardest lessons I learned was that the people who are interested only in your pain, will abandon you once you are no longer a victim. You are useless to them when you are strong and they have nothing to exploit.

I wasn’t interested in a spotlight for a spotlight’s sake.

I was hell bent to get the truth out, honor Lou, and make sure what happened to him and our family, never happened to anyone else. So I wrote my first book anyway. FRONT TOWARD ENEMY.

I am also hellbent on doing whatever I can, to help others who feel lost, broken, defeated, hopeless, or are maybe just looking for insight on resilience, figure things out without having to go as far down into darkness as I did.

While I’m at it, I figured we’d have some laughs along the way.

So I wrote my 3rd book: What Not to Wear to a Murder Trial- and other tips tragedy taught me.

And I priced it ridiculously low, because I want everyone to be able to afford it.
Link is in my bio- and it’s an easy Amazon find.

:)

Here’s another installment of the Great American Syndicate newsletter - your freedom-loving neighborhood paperboy - Extra! Extra! Read all about it!

Be Thankful, Media Matters, and the Least Free State in the USA Here’s another installment of the Great American Syndicate newsletter! In this installment we discuss being thankful in 2024, Elon Musk, New York, and more.

A “Kill Switch” For Cancer Cells Could Lead To A Cure!

fore·shad·ow
/fôrˈSHadō,fərˈSHadō/
verb
gerund or present participle: foreshadowing
be a warning or indication of (a future event).

- They aren’t event trying to pretend anymore.

Are we, as Americans, losing sight of our compassion?

Fourteen Year Old Boy Creates a Soap That Treats Melanoma

Another Genocide Is Underway In Armenia, But Sadly the World Doesn’t Care!

Yes.

We are the couple that have out pocket Constitutions as wedding favors.

We spoke about our faith.

Our family surrounded us.

And freedom deserved its props :)

🇺🇸

One minute I was rocking him to sleep in my arms, and the next he was walking me down the aisle.

There are so many moments from this past weekend that felt like my heart would burst with love.

This one is among the best- the happy chatter with my son as we walked past and through the friends and family who took the time to share the moments with us.

The sight of the rest of my kids, including my stepdaughter and stepson, beaming back at us as they waited by the arch.

The man with as many tears on his face as mine, waiting so patiently and strongly for me to make my way to him- just like he so patiently waited for me to realize he was the one I was hoping to find.

I am truly blessed :)

One week from today, I get to marry Dave Brown.

Getting married - standing before God, friends, and family to commit to loving and being with one person for the rest of your life- or theirs- is a big deal.

Getting REmarried after being widowed is a really, REALLY big deal.

I once had a conversation with a Gold Star Mom, many years ago. Her son had died in a combat zone and the devastation for her was as clearly felt as mine was to me.

She was doing what so many of us can't help doing- comparing pain/grief and explaining why hers was greater than mine:

"You can just go out and find a new husband," she said. "I can't replace my son."

There was no point replying to her, attempting to explain why that was an unfair statement.

It was what she believed and where she was at that moment.

Well- next week I am indeed "finding a new husband."

But there is no "just" about it.

NO part of me ever stops loving and missing Lou- wondering, "what if?"

And no part of me ever stops loving Dave, or being powerfully, wholly grateful that he loves me back.

Partly because he is confident enough in us to acknowledge and support the part of me that will always be Lou's.

And to all my fellow widows out there... THAT is how you know if you can believe you have been blessed TWICE in your life.

On my right wrist I will continue wearing the bracelet with Lou's name on it. My right wrist will remind of of a beautiful time in my life, and the cruel price love ultimately demands of us. It will remind me to never let the small things come between me and my new husband- to make sure that when the time comes for one of us to lose the other, we do so with confidence that we made every moment together matter.

On my left hand I'll wear my wedding ring. It will remind me that love always wins. One hand compliments the other.

Some people might not believe love is worth the pricetag.

But-

I do :)

It’s a good thing you can’t smell this pic because I was sweating my a$$ off

But that’s the best ingredient in reaching the top of that hill or mountain isn’t it- that we have to work for it?

The view always seems a little sweeter to me, from the top of something I had to work to reach.

Literally and figuratively.

We remember the moments we worked for.

We find humor in struggles we didn’t find funny at the time.

We celebrate minor wins we worked hard for, more than random gifts bestowed on us.

Or at least we celebrate those differently,right?

What are you sweating your Kiester off for now? And are you remembering to enjoy each day along the way:)

The private jokes, the secret looks.
The butt spanks when you pass in the hallway

The extra time you took on the way home,
Allowing yourself to unwind and enjoy
Knowing That
he would be there when you arrive

The “I got this” whisper in your ear,
As you feel the bed move when he gets

The smell of coffee and the melody of your kids laughing
While you savor some extra sleep

The view from shotgun
As he takes the wheel
And a small guilty pleasure
As he pumps the gas in the freezing cold
So you can stay warm

The sensation of someone caring for you that way

And the joy you feel
When you take care of him,

The smile on your head as you do
those special things
You know he loves

The way you take tomorrow for granted
Believing he will be a part of it
Here with you
The way he is now

Those are the things
That you miss

The simple things
That turn out to be
The most powerful

You can do it on your own:

You can raise the kids
And drive the car
And pump the gas
In the freezing cold

Because you are strong and capable

But you just really,
Really,
Wish you didn’t have to

Oliver Anthony's blue-collar anthem soars to the top of the iTunes charts, capturing the hearts of millions.

NBA player Jonathan Isaac launches anti-woke, pro-Christian alternative to Nike: Says, 'Our values are valid'!

The WEF is planning to implement “permanent climate lockdowns,” and it plans to do so “…whether (we) like it or not.”

Want to know what you can to to lift someone up, in about 30 seconds?

Send them a text like this.

This person has no idea how I’ve been struggling at times to keep doing what I do.

This person has no clue how much I pour into my writing and my books, and how hard it can be to keep doing so, even when it feels like I am buried underneath the people with big names, big brands, and bigger bank accounts.

And this person has no idea that this text sent an immediate boost to me. It was an instant reminder that I AM good at what I do, that I DO make an impact and that all the sacrifice and work and frustration ARE worth it.

Each time I get a text, call, email or message like this, it seems to come exactly when I need it most.

And it inspires me to send a message or post something like it to someone I know, who has inspired me or someone else I know.

In a moment in time, where it can feel as though we are too small to make any difference at all- remember the power of that expensive phone in your pocket, to spread encouragement and light.

🩷

Summertime, top down JEEP driving always makes me smile.

Playing our favorite tunes, holding hands, laughing and teasing one another or talking about our work and our lives and the roads traveled and yet-to-be-traveled is one of my favorite ways to spend a couple hours together during our normal lives.

In the long, dreary, freeze-your-face-off winter weather, it’s one of the things I miss and count the days until we can do again.

As I’ve been doing a LOT of re-evaluating these past months, finding moments to literally let the wind whip through my hair and feel the warm rush on my face helps me anchor deeper into what truly makes me feel free.

Recently I’ve hit a place where I am reaching crossroads and making turns without looking back.

I feel like I’ve given as much of me as I can to being a mom, and being the person everyone needs or expects me to be for them, when they what or need me to be so, without really considering or caring about what that requires from me- and I’ve built new maps for my path, that take me far off course from that.

I’ve done this in stages over the years. First, it required me separating myself from an entire family that repeatedly broke me down .

Next, it was from a person here or a person there who openly and aggressively blasted me online, the way people tend to do these days.

Now I’ve moved into separating myself from people at any level, who betray or abuse my trust. People who expect me to remain in situations that are not in my best interest, to appease their need for company. People who talk smack about me to friends, colleagues, or strangers. People who expect me to continually drop things and show up when and where it’s convenient for them, without ever taking the time to come on out to me.

And so on.

It doesn’t mean I am angry at these people or expect change even when I attempt to talk with them about where things are.

It doesn’t mean I don’t miss them or am not happy to see and spend time with them.

It just means I need to live a life where I pack as much joy, freedom, triumphs, and wind in my hair as I can.

Because I have enough adversity and stress and worries and mountains to climb as it is:)

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Love your kids. Go ALL IN on the time you have with them!

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Barb Allen's Powerful Talk On Courage and Compassion Listen to Barb Allen's captivating, thought-provoking, and personal talk on the state of our society in America, where courage and compassion must take cente...

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Flex Your Freedom Podcast With Barb Allen - YouTube Welcome to the Flex Your Freedom podcast, where we explore inspiring stories of individuals who conquered adversity, embraced resilience, and triumphed in th...

Give Us Pizza Or Give Us Death: Activist Artist Scott LoBaido Calls Out NYC Mayor Over Pizza Ovens!

I can’t believe I am saying this but.. I think I am grateful for the poison all over my legs.

I mean- it is annoying and uncomfortable and less than attractive.

It is a result of my mad dash crashing through brush and falling as I fled whomever the lunatic coming at me was.

But…

It is my reminder of all the things I’ve been taking for granted.

It is my reminder that I am not promised tomorrow- or even tonight.

It is my reminder to maintain situational awareness. And to better prepare for unexpected attacks.

Literally and figuratively.

It is my reminder to increase my gratitude.

To let go of the things that don’t matter.

To reinforce my inner circle, to squeeze more out of each day… and so on.

It is my lingering wake up call when I didn’t even realize I needed one.

So while I am looking forward to it going away, I think I’ll turn its negative presence and origin into my bitch instead of a burden.

Getchya some.

To say this past weekend had been a whirlwind is an understatement:

I watched my beautiful stepdaughter graduate high school, knowing in a few months she begins a new life in the United States Air Force.

I had what I am not ashamed to say was a terrifying moment, when I was stalked and run down on our quiet road, and had to flee through the brush in pouring rain, genuinely wondering if whoever the lunatic toying with me was, was about to make those moments my last.. although I would have made him work for it 😉

Then my sweet mom fell and injured herself, so we spent yesterday in the hospital as she underwent surgery, before wrapping the weekend up with my best friend and partner in life, at a friend’s wedding.

SO MANY reminders and moments reminding me what matters most.

Armed with this renewed awareness.. and covered in poison ivy.. I’m ready to make this week matter.

It’s too bad NY is ruled by such lunatics.

It really is such a beautiful state with many amazing people, and it is loaded with historic landmarks.

Tonight we drove past Washington’s headquarters, which is about 30 minutes from our house.

I wonder what Washington would think if he could see what the area around his headquarters looks like now?

I wonder what any of our country’s forefathers would think if they knew what is happening in our country?

I wonder … would any of us work so hard and give and risk and love and sacrifice so much, if we knew what came next?

I’m glad they didn’t know how quickly our country could fall.

I’m glad I didn’t know how quickly I’d lose the first true love in my life, or how the court martial would end.

I’m glad tomorrow is unknown and I un-promised , because I would have run from the beauty if I’d known the pain to follow.

I might not have the courage to love so deeply and go all in now, if I let myself dwell on the risk attached.

The best things in life would be so easy to miss out on, if we lived those moments conditionally- wouldn’t they?

The ONLY flag that represents us ALL

We do not need or want flags about sexuality, race, gender, or whatever else is personal or unique to us.

Federal buildings should ONLY fly the American flag- not the Ukraine flag, not a rainbow flag, not a BLM flag … but the only flag that represents all of us.

Call me whatever you want for this. Those who know
me, those who heard me speak last weekend, know the truth about me.

This is not about me being anti- anything other than those who are themselves anti-American.

None of these “movements” are about anything they are pretending to be.

Rather, they are hijacking the true movements with real people who deserve respect.

They are putting people like my child at risk, because of the extreme acts taking place in the name of LGBTQ movements. They are increasing divisiveness, destroying our strength, harming our youth, and they need to stop.

I know these posts are weak measures- most people won’t read past this first line or two before they slam me.

Many will just ignore it completely.

But it’s one drop in a bucket, and there’s more where this came from.

Imagine loving someone, knowing she will always reserve a piece of her heart for someone else.

Imagine supporting her , even helping her carve time out to reflect on her love and loss her way.

Imagine loving someone others have taught not to trust.

Imagine trying to figure out how to be both strong and soft, with someone who sometimes wants both, and sometimes wants neither.

Imagine navigating the milestones she keeps to herself, the times she has to excuse herself suddenly, along with the times she almost smothers you with her presence.

Imagine, also, knowing she will love you deeper because she recognizes how shallow so much of life can become.

Imagine knowing she chooses to let herself love you, knowing she might lose you too- or that you will lose her, and how she worries for you.

Imagine rolling with her “what’s the worst that could happen” approach to risk, knowing the bar she measures that up against.

Imagine laughing like kids at jokes only you two understand.

And then imagine building a life together doing things no one else would ever be crazy enough to do with you.

If you can imagine all that, you’ll have a pretty good idea of what and I are together.

It is not about “replacing” Lou.

I would never even try that, or ever know how- because he was and always will be to me, irreplaceable.

It is instead about stepping into the strength he knew I have before I did, and choosing to live all-in.

Even as I’ve struggled a little harder this past month, and I laugh because some people judge me for being happy, while others doubt my happiness and maybe even my stability.

Ha

This week, I choose to count my blessings.

I would love Lou all over again, even knowing I’ll lose him.

And I’ll love Dave as long as I’m in this life.

And I won’t apologize for either of those loves :)

5:22 pm on June 7 2005 - I was putting dinner on the table for the boys when out of nowhere I felt like I’d been gut punched- to the point I literally fell on to the table.

In my heart I knew he was gone.

But for a few precious hours I was able to cling to the hope I was wrong.

June 8 rolled around and I couldn’t pretend anymore .

I have much to say this week- much to share.

But for now I will thank everyone who showed up this past weekend. You have made a hard week beautiful for me.

I am sending you all a private message in the morning- check your emails.

For those who have stood by me all these years, thank you too.

You guys are all amazing ❤️

is interviewing at

Dave is sharing his expertise on real estate investing and how he built his company into a million dollar company.

He brings this expertise straight to our members too:)

So happy to have at

Can’t wait for her to take the stage today

Well my first public gathering on Memorial Day weekend reminded me why I stay home on Memorial Day

This weekend is 18 years since Lou deployed.

I have lived several versions of life since then.

And rebuilt it into a life I genuinely love.

So it can feel “wrong” or “ungrateful” to dwell sometimes.

And I have made it a practice to consciously avoid doing so, because who wants to go back to the pain?

Last night the event turned emotional and somber. And caught me unprepared

I was sort of trapped then, surrounded by people doing their own reflecting, none who knew Lou , few who knew me- and those I did know , know me
Now, not then.

Midway through I skedaddled and caught an Uber back to the hotel for some wine and chocolate cake at 1:30 am

Today I reflect quietly.

In a few days, we light things up with our event.

Have a blessed Memorial Day.

Let me know if I’ll see you at the

It’s live! I’m dropping the link in comments.

Grab a tissue, turn the volume up, and let yourself listen and watch this powerful song and video.

Shannon Book is an independent artist. This video is a result of decades of work and determination.

So if you love this as much as I do- or even half as much- sending this to your friends and network can literally help change everything for him.

Let’s help this go viral 🙂

It took me over three years to secure a White House visit for my boys and I.

While it is normal for the President to meet with families of the fallen, it is not always the case.

At least it wasn’t for mine.

I do not have warm fuzzy feelings for the president whose lie set the events in motion, that led to my husband being killed.

I do not respect a man who thinks so little of the thousands of men and women who paid for his lie with their blood, and their families’ pain, that he sends them to sacrifice so much, just to feed his lie.

And yet- it was important to me that that man have to look my four boys in the eye and tell them their dad is a hero.

Maybe I would see a flicker of genuine humanity in his eyes.

Maybe he would feel some remorse for his actions.

Instead, I was given three years of runarounds and whispered phone calls telling me my request was labeled political instead of personal.

It was clear to me that the circumstances of my husband’s murder by a fellow soldier, and then the botched capital court martial, coupled with my outspokenness on it all, made me someone unwelcome in the White House.

But I finally got the nod, and brought the boys to a brunch. They met the Secretary of State, the president and vice president.

And I saw a flicker of something in the president’s eyes, but it was not remorse or compassion.

And then the vice president gave a subtle nod, and had me politely escorted out of the event by the Secret Service, before the other families left.

It was subtle- quiet. No one else noticed.

But I will never forget.

The whole story of that meeting is in my first book.

And the memory is with me for life.

Would you still love your son or daughter?

Would you still want them in your life?

Would you do whatever it takes, to keep them in your life?

Would you shun them?

Would you refuse to accept their choice and insist “not MY kid..”

Would you still laugh at the memes, join in on the raging hate, still jump into the mob mindset that ALL transgender people are evil, dangerous, or a threat, when it becomes personal?

Would you agonize between what you know to be true on one hand, and who you love on the other?

Would you love your child above all else, or would you abandon that love because it so deeply contrasts with everything else you know to be real- because that love is now tested?

Does this very question make you angry or uncomfortable- do you believe YOUR child “would never” or that only “woke” parents raise children who become transgender adults?

What about other parents whose kids do things like become addicts or criminals - are they, too, all “bad” parents?

What about the parent whose momentarily lapse of awareness leads to a tragedy for their child- should we demonize them as well?

Are we now all unable to recognize humanity versus evil? Troubled or mentally ill but also loving and peaceful, vs a threat to you and your family? Human and fallible, now sentenced to a life of pain and regret versus unfit parents and human trash?

These are some of the questions I’ve asked myself recently, as I have met new people and navigated new challenges.

Is there a valid need to defend our children and our Constitution and our safety… of course.

But do we need to sacrifice love and grace to do so- and will that be a victory at all?