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Oh, Beantown.

As I prepare to go back to New England for a true summer weekend, some thoughts from the past couple years continue to creep back into my mind… so naturally, I thought I would share them with my peers.

Friends and foes alike loved asking the question “why not move home” as I started a brand new life on my own again in Boston in 2017. Having only been there a year and facing a daunting task of filing for an annulment from several states away, I certainly couldn’t have been blamed for going back south to be closer to family and friends. That being said – looking back, I’m so glad I grew stubborn in my response to stay put and reinvent the wheel in an area I was only starting to get to know. The challenge of truly applying myself in the city was a welcome one, and I embraced the idea of making new friends while overcoming different challenges I wouldn’t have the chance of experiencing back home.

Unlike the ever-evolving landscape of Charlotte, Boston’s identity has been established for a long time – and honestly, that applies to much of New England as a whole. As you enter each suburb, there isn’t much of a secret in terms of the history of the people who live there and how you might expect them to treat you. To the “outside world”, they can be perceived as cold and heartless… and when I first arrived, the lack of knowledge when it came to the different terms used regionally as well as not knowing proper pronunciation of the towns… we can safely say that I was getting all the looks an outsider should have.


However, as I worked my territory in software sales, I came to realize that most of the crowd was putting up a wall out of instinct until they knew what to truly expect from someone. As long as you approached them with honest intentions and didn’t beat around the bush (things other parts of the country are clearly very well known for), they would drop that wall and extend the olive branch to you to potentially create a loyal bond for life. From Medford to Belmont to Waltham, my residences each year gave me a chance to befriend citizens from all walks of life, and really appreciate the different definitions of family and friendship that others in the same ol’ US of A call home.


The concept of being far away from family and friends in a challenging time scares a lot of people away from even entertaining the idea, and I get it. Some need that support structure there physically, and I’m not saying there weren’t moments when I craved the feeling of home. Thankfully, there were several people who became integral to my success daily in the Boston area, who weren’t afraid to give it to me straight while motivating me to reach my full potential at the same time. I will forever be grateful for having spent three quality years in a region that constantly inspired me to put my skills and creativity to the test daily and prove my worth in any given area. To experience career and relationship changes in an unfamiliar place is a thrill ride I won’t encourage everyone to get in line for… but just know that it most definitely continued to mold me into the positive and optimistic person I strive to be.


If you haven’t gotten the chance to go up to New England for a weekend, don’t just take my word for it. From Portlane, ME to Burlington, VT – Newport, RI to Cape Cod, the options for an amazing experience (to be fair, I would encourage timing it between April-October for weather purposes) are essentially endless if you wander outside of Boston. While that might intrigue you… the foodie in me craves pasta freshly made in the North End, a massive steakbomb from Bob’s, straight out the boat sushi from Monkfish, late night stuffed rice balls from Bova’s, hazy juicy IPA’s from the local watering holes… and plenty of sights to take in around town to walk it all off.


Boston – from getting me to enjoy the energy of slinging drinks again to playing music with some of the most talented people I have ever met, trying every kind of cuisine to jumping out of a perfectly good plane – you may always have the most entertaining chapter of my book.

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  • February 26, 2019February 26, 2019
  • by Ben Torres

People love to ask the question… where is home these days? Where do you call home? We seem to develop the notion that one’s home defines a lot more about the person than what ends up being the case. “Oh, so you’re a Yankee…” “Oh, so you’re from the South…”

Will everyone stop and admit that 95% of the stereotypes that we try to associate with these hometowns are absolute nonsense? I can say without a doubt that there are THOUSANDS of people from the “Bible Belt” who tend to be downright crude and inhospitable, just as there are THOUSANDS of people from the North who actually have souls and give a crap about others and their well-being.

Don’t let where you were born or raised define you – this isn’t the early 20th century, and even the grandparents that are still walking among us seem to have embraced change when you ask them. Whenever I get asked these questions, so those unfamiliar with my background can find a way to put Ben in their own “boxes of understanding”… I simply start telling my story, whether they like it or not.

I was born in Flint, Michigan. Yes, that Flint – the town devastated by tragedy that our corrupt political system chooses to make their playing card as it suits them, only to abandon its residents at the end of a campaign instead of actually helping them. My mother was working as an electrical engineer for General Motors at the time – because after all, that was the definition of a successful person who had graduated from college in the Midwest in the 80’s.

My early years were then spent in the Ohio Valley – the Ohio side of the West Virginia panhandle, to be more precise. I started working at the ripe age of 9, taking on a paper route to make enough money to buy my own bike – and even chip in on an actual piano once my skill set was developed enough to graduate from a small keyboard. My mom’s extended family and friends raised me in the tradition of Pittsburgh sports (after all, it was the closest big city), and my claim to that fandom still seems to haunt several of my friends from other parts of the world to this very day.

The family moved to North Carolina when I was in middle school… and I learned the hard way about starting over with friends and life in the midst of puberty. Though NC has now been my place of residence for longer than any other state (not to mention where I went to college and launched my professional career)… it is hard to imagine me saying that this one place alone constitutes my “home”. After all, the last 4 years of my life were spent downing queso in Austin and taking in late nights on the water in Boston – complete opposite environments from anything I had ever known up to this point.

At the end of it all… I just hope that you strive to let your personality, accomplishments, desires, and dreams define who you are – not where you have your mail sent to. As you will find out, the more you explore and the more you converse – you have a lot more in common with the person across the table from you, no matter what impression may have led you otherwise.