How Old were you when you Stopped Believing in Santa?

7. We were living in the house in which I grew up and it was a 3-bedroom flat. I had to get up for the bathroom and had to walk by the tree. It was still early (you know how your folks made you go to bed extra early on Christmas eve?) and the presents were already under the tree. When I asked my parents about it the next morning, they fumbled with an unconvincing answer. It was then I realized what was going on.
 

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Figured it out reading the Little House series. I was eight, I think and it wasn't emotional. I did, however, share the knowledge with my first cousin/best friend and it didn't go over well ...like an emotional bomb went off. She still brings it up from time to time.
 
debodun said:
7. We were living in the house in which I grew up and it was a 3-bedroom flat. I had to get up for the bathroom and had to walk by the tree. It was still early (you know how your folks made you go to bed extra early on Christmas eve?) and the presents were already under the tree. When I asked my parents about it the next morning. They fumbled with an unconvincing answer. It was then I realized what was going on.
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I used to leave food for Santa on the kitchen table. My father would eat it while I was sleeping. To me, finding it gone, was magical! I also kept scanning the skies to see if I could catch a glimpse of Santa on his delivery route. The sheer magnitude of the task never dawned on me.
 
I'm definitely not gung ho about telling children there is a for real Santa Claus. What honest joy can be found for those who say there is and the believing children who down the line find out there is not? And what about the children of parents who can't afford to buy their children gifts for Christmas? Ya know? I gently told my children the truth & after that they'd sneak peeks from their bedroom of me putting gifts under our Christmas tree while giggling their heads off.
 
Elsie said:
I'm definitely not gung ho about telling children there is a for real Santa Claus. What honest joy can be found for those who say there is and the believing children who down the line find out there is not? And what about the children of parents who can't afford to buy their children gifts for Christmas? Ya know? I gently told my children the truth & after that they'd sneak peeks from their bedroom of me putting gifts under our Christmas tree while giggling their heads off.
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Very true. My mother was severely traumatized as a child by seeing the discrepancy between the shabby quality of toys that she was receiving, vs. the high-quality toys that other girls were receiving. She would request the same expensive beautiful dolls that her neighbor friends were requesting, as advertised in magazines. Yet she would always wind up with rag dolls.

Eventually, it forced her to conclude that the Three Kings, or the Three Wise Men who were supposed to be bringing the gifts, according to her culture, were evil because they were showing favoritism. Such recriminations led to her mother breaking down and weeping in frustration. Finally, her mom's friend intervened and revealed the truth in order to spare her anguished mom the agony. She said she had felt ashamed for having caused her mom to suffer in that way. But it wasn't really her fault. It had been an expectation imposed on her based on her trust in her mother's veracity. Better the truth from the very start.
 
I believe in Santa. Mrs.L and I visited him in his summer HQ in Rovaniemi on the Arctic circle in Finland. We've got a photo of us with the man himself. It was summer and very warm, so while Santa was wearing this grey robes - he wears grey in summer- we were in T-shirts and shorts.
He was OK, his office is air-conditioned.

If you write to 'Santa Claus, north pole', this is where the letters end up. There is a dedicated post office to handle the mail and you can write a Christmas card any time, and it will be posted for you with a special stamp in December. Mrs.L wrote cards for the classes in the infant school where she worked and they got them just before Christmas - From Santa. They were delighted.
 
When I was 5, my mom took me aside and told me the story of the real Saint Nicolas; Nicholas of Bari, Nicholas the Wonderworker, patron saint of children and toymakers, a bishop who was legendary for his secret gift-giving.

I accepted this. I was happy to know this secret. I was inspired by it. I had a new hero.

And when each of my kids was 5, I told them about the real Saint Nicolas.
 
Murrmurr said:
When I was 5, my mom took me aside and told me the story of the real Saint Nicolas; Nicholas of Bari, Nicholas the Wonderworker, patron saint of children and toymakers, a bishop who was legendary for his secret gift-giving.

I accepted this. I was happy to know this secret. I was inspired by it. I had a new hero.

And when each of my kids was 5, I told them about the real Saint Nicolas.
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Wonderful! :)
 
I was 8. My parents never told me the truth about there being no Santa, so I had to confront them with it. They admitted it. I was devastated. It was hard to trust any adult again after that. For a while I would tease other kids who believed in Santa. Maybe because I was hurt and wanted to hurt others? IDK. I felt bad about this because they were so happy believing there was a Santa so I let it go and accepted my fate. But I would have preferred never to have been lied to about Santa in the first place. :unsure:
 
Back in the 1950's we kids were more naive. We believed in Santa longer than they do now. My mother never had good timing or commonsense at times. One time she must have been mad at me about something. About 2 weeks before Christmas, she said to me, "Oh by the way, there is no Santa Claus!" I thought that was mean of her. Couldn't she given me just one more Christmas, and tell me after December 25th? I can't remember what age I was. I just remember how mean it was of her to say it.
 
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Around the age of 7.

We lived in my grandmotherā€™s big old farmhouse and she always had a huge tree with lots of gifts piled underneath in the days leading up to Christmas.

In our section of the house there was never any hint of Christmas but on Christmas morning there was always a tree and a stack of unwrapped gifts and toys for each of us.

It caused some confusion and concern but eventually we figured it out and after that our Christmas was very similar on both sides of the house.
 
I don't remember ever believing in Santa. My dad was tough military; l don't think he would have gone for that. But l enjoyed Christmas santa when l was older. If l had children, l would have gone along with it and enjoyed it with them vicariously.
 
I don't know how old I was, maybe 7 or 8, but I knew the jig was up when after my siblings and I were told to go to bed on Christmas Eve, my mother and my stepdad had a constant parade going between their room and the living room. I figured they stashed the Christmas gifts in their closet and the whole Santa thing was a scam. I don't know if I mentioned any of this to my brother and sister. It was OK, though. My mother absolutely enjoyed Christmas.
 
I was probably 4 or even younger. Oldest kid and already taking care of baby siblings by then. By 6 I was changing diapers.
 

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