When Do We Learn To Be Objects?

At what age, do young girls start to see themselves as objects? When did I start to be ashamed of my own body and see my arms and legs and breasts as objects rather than as parts of myself?

Perhaps it was when I was playing with my Barbie dolls. I swapped them in and out of various dresses. I moved their legs the way I wanted. I styled their hair the way I wanted and their bodies went where I wanted them to go. Maybe I saw myself as a Barbie doll.

Maybe it was in 5th grade when our principle informed the students that we were no longer able to wear sweatpants with words across the butt. Only the girls were told, not the boys. All I had wanted for Christmas that year was Victoria Secret Pink brand sweats. All the older girls in my family had them. But I wouldn't be able to wear them. Apparently four letters scripted across my ass was just too much for the boys at school. Even though in class I would be sitting on said four letters and trying to learn. I guess the time in between classes when I would walk to my locker to get more books was enough to distract my male classmates for the entirety of the school year.

The message may have really hit home in middle school. My friend had bra straps showing. Too much thigh showing, apparently. She didn't have anything else to change into so she was sent home. I repeat, she was sent home. My friend missed a full day of classes, missed out on her education because some administrator somewhere decided that her education was less important than a student who couldn't keep his eyes off of her pink bra straps rather than the math problem on the white board. And that is messed up.

When did I start to see myself as an object? Realizing that I had to 'cover' my body to ensure that I wasn't 'asking' for unwanted attention or advances. Knowing that I could be seen as less than a full human. Seen as only a baby maker or somewhere to insert an erection or a nag who bleeds once a month and turns into a massive bitch because of this.

When will I see myself as something more? Not worry about the shape of my thighs and hope that they meet the ideal beauty standards. Not try on three different skirts in the morning wondering what was appropriate to wear to class. Not try to distinguish the difference between the right amount of boobs to display on a night out so that I didn't look like a prude but not too much that I looked like a whore.

When will it end? And when will we stop teaching girls they're objects in the first place?