My first Real Boyfriend (apologies to all of the boys I dated before then) did not pin me. He did other wonderful things like get me flowers, which I instantly chided him for since I hate flowers, and insist that I excel in my studies instead of bumming around with him 24/7, which I pouted about constantly. You know, maybe it's a good thing that he never pinned me. I probably would have been a silly, petulant teenage girl about it.
However, my boyfriend did give me a piece of meaningful jewelry. When he was born, his father gave him an adult-sized gold chain; I am not quite sure why he did this, but my guess is that it was some sort of manhood ritual. My boyfriend wore it every day and I equated it with him unequivocally. During a particularly romantic moment, he sneaked the gold chain into my hand and told me to keep it.
That's about as close as I ever got to being pinned. I was chained.
I kept the chain long after he broke up with me; I would have gladly given it back if he ever asked for it, but him refusing to talk to me ever again after the break-up made that tough. In fact, I kept the necklace for a few years after I had been married. What? I know I am still head over heels for this boy and so does my husband!
My mom still had connections with my former boyfriend's family, and I gave her the necklace to return to him. I regret doing it every day, not because I don't have the necklace anymore but because I didn't give him back the necklace in person. A drawback to being a chicken is that closure is near impossible.
All of that being said, I didn't need to be pinned by any boy. I had my own pins: two pins from my CJSF participation and a pin from my beloved high school theatre company.
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