Surely most here would remember the quote on Texas from John Steinbeck, a Californian native.
"When I started this narrative, I knew that sooner or later I would have to have a go at Texas, and I dreaded it. I could have bypassed Texas about as easily as a space traveler can avoid the Milky Way. It sticks its big old Panhandle up north and slopes and slouches along the Rio Grande. Once you are in Texas, it seems to take forever to get out, and some people never make it.
Let me say in the beginning that even if I wanted to avoid Texas I could not, for I am wived in Texas and mother-in-lawed and uncled and aunted and cousined within an inch of my life. Staying away from Texas geographically is no help whatever, for Texas moves through our house in New York, our fishing cottage at Sag Harbour, and when we had a flat in Paris, Texas was there too. It permeates the world to a ridiculous degree. Once, in Florence, on seeing a lvoely little Italian princess, I said to her father, "But she doesn't look Italian. It may seem strange, but she looks like an American Indian." To which her father replied, "Why shouldn't she? Her grandfather married a Cherokee in Texas."
Writers facing the problem of Texas find themselves floundering in generalities, and I am no exception. Texas is a state of mind. Texas is an obsession. Above all, Texas is a nation in every sense of the word. Adn there's an opening covey of generalities. A Texan outside of Texas is a foreigner. My wife refers to herself as the Texan that got away, but that is only party true. She has virtually no accent until she talks to a Texan, when she instantly reverts."
-John Steinbeck
Also, Southerner do associate more with their state than those in the north. When I went to seminary in Chicago, and there were people there from all over the US. (and beyond).
Those from Florida, Georgia, Mississippi, always when asked, "where are you from?" Answered by state name.
Those from the West or North East did not.
Texas of course is it's own.