Southie isn’t just where I grew up.
It’s the reason I learned how to survive before I learned how to slow down.
It’s triple deckers, loud kitchens, funerals that shut down whole streets, and people who would hand you their last $20 while calling you an asshole.
It’s the kind of place where people will burn your house down… then show up the next morning with coffee, contractors, and three cousins ready to help rebuild it.
It’s pride. Loyalty. Chaos. Grief. Humor. Faith.
And whether people like it or not — you carry Southie with you forever.