In my family, jewelry was always the go-to gift. This is partially cultural: I'm half-Puerto Rican, which means gold bracelets, chains, and other accessories are standard presents for special occasions. When I was two, my finger got so chubby that my mom had to take me to the jeweler to cut off the ring my grandmother had given me as a baby. (And for the record: We were all rocking gold nameplates long before Carrie Bradshaw made them cool.)

This love for bling followed me into adulthood. I've worn a variety of combinations over the years, but no matter what, I always wear at least two rings: On my right hand, the pearl number my mom passed down to me from her 16th birthday; on my left ring finger, a pink gem stone my dad bought for me during an island vacation when I was 16.

Yes, you read that correctly: I wear that on my left ring finger, where an engagement ring is "supposed" to go. Why that particular finger, you ask? Honestly, there's no real reason — I just love the ring, and that's where it fits best. I've worn it daily for over 12 years, and my hand feels naked when I forget it. In fact, on the rare occasions I'm not wearing the ring, I still find myself automatically reaching down to play with it.

The ring was never intended to signal my relationship status. And yet, that's almost always what people assume. At a club recently, I started chatting with a cute guy. The conversation was flowing, I was in full-on flirt mode, and he asked if I wanted a drink. But when we got to the bar, he stopped in his tracks. "Oh man, you're engaged?" he asked. I gave him a confused look, until I saw him staring at my hand. "Oh, no, that's just where I happen to wear my favorite ring," I explained, laughing. "I always wear it on this hand." His response surprised me. "You really shouldn't," he said. "It will stop guys from approaching you."

His "advice" felt like something from the early 1900s. But then I realized, I shouldn't be that surprised — this was actually a somewhat familiar conversation. When I was in a long-term relationship, acquaintances or coworkers who had never noticed the ring before would see it and squeal, assuming my then-boyfriend had proposed. An Instagram where my ring was visible once led a high school classmate to comment, "Oh my God, is that what I think it is?!" And now that I'm single, when I've met new people, I've been asked if I'm engaged, married, or simply "what the deal is" with my ring. Most of the time, I just want to respond: Honestly? It's none of your business.

But I'm not alone. A photo of Kylie Jenner from two weeks ago sparked rumors that she was engaged to her boyfriend, Tyga: