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When did you stop believing in Santa?
- Thread starter Christian T
- Start date
grapesicles
Well-Known Member
Great thread 
I was 9 and at my nan's house with my mum and my aunt. My mum left the room and I was excitedly showing my aunt the advent calender I'd just received and how excited I was to get gifts from Santa. She laughed sarcastically and said "You don't think Santa's still real, do you?" Childhood = destroyed. I cried (a lot).
I figured out the tooth fairy thing quickly and never got into the Easter Bunny one at all. Santa seemed to make more logical sense, at the time.
I was 9 and at my nan's house with my mum and my aunt. My mum left the room and I was excitedly showing my aunt the advent calender I'd just received and how excited I was to get gifts from Santa. She laughed sarcastically and said "You don't think Santa's still real, do you?" Childhood = destroyed. I cried (a lot).
I figured out the tooth fairy thing quickly and never got into the Easter Bunny one at all. Santa seemed to make more logical sense, at the time.
My mother never sold me the Santa story, so I never really believed in him. A lot of people I tell that to look at me like I'm sad, and feel I've missed out in something magical, but to be honest, I'm glad. I don't understand the whole concept of lying to children about such a thing. I can experience magic without being lied to, and I was able to still enjoy Christmas, and all the stories that came with it. If I ever have kids, I'll tell them the stories, but I don't want to lie to them.
Axeman52
Well-Known Member
I was exactly the same, I never really believed in him, but I did play along just because they seemed to be going to such great lengths to get me to believe it, and I didn't want to disappoint them - turned out my parents always knew I was playing along, and if I'd known that, I wouldn't have kept up the charade for so long.
It really rubs me the wrong way when people lie to kids like that, though. If I have kids I won't be able to lie to them, even when I'm expected to - and that's got me thinking - Why do I even have to take it for granted that at some point, if I have kids, people will expect me to lie to them about something?
I don't recall ever believing in Santa that seriously. In fact, I think I may have actually been a little relieved that he wasn't real (I don't remember the exact age when I found out) since I think I found the idea of this weird guy coming into my house in the middle of the night a little creepy.
nova
Well-Known Member
When I was in Kindergarten (so 4 or 5, probably 5 at that point since I think it was around Christmas) I had my suspicions, so I asked my mom. She lied that time because she didn't have the heart to tell me when I was that young. The next year I sat her down very seriously and said, "Okay, mom, be honest with me..."
Then I had to spend a couple years pretending because my older brother didn't know yet.
Then I had to spend a couple years pretending because my older brother didn't know yet.
GoofKing
All your bases are belong to us
That was around the same I stopped believing in Santa, but only because we learned about Saint Nicholas in different cultures and I hated the one that spanked naughty children lol
Oh alright maybe about the age of fifteen is when I stopped believing in Santa Claus
Lol, mugglesLike Neurotypicals, Muggles can be perplexing at times.
Santa...that fat lying dude...I was about ten when he got busted ...I was being really good for months so I could ask him for a new bicycle...that was all I really wanted,and I wanted it bad...I got the courage to ask him for one when I sat on his lap and he promised me a new bike because I had been so good as he agreed...he is supposed to see you when your are sleeping,etc...my neighbor had started a huge field fire playing with matches and nearly burned down our entire neighborhood...he got a new bicycle AND a new motorcycle...I never got a bike...My mother set me straight and it was game over for me and jolly old saint fraudulous...
One of my favourite quotes:
"When I was young I used to ask God for a bicycle. Then I learnt it didn't work this way, so I stole one and asked him to forgive me instead."
AGXStarseed
Well-Known Member
I think I knew when I was about 6 years old but didn't let my parents know my disbelief in the 'big guy who creeps in your house' until I was 7.
My main doubts cam from the fact we didn't have a chimney, so when I asked my parents about how he got in, they would say they left the back door unlocked for him.
Let's just say I'm glad they were making it up - that would have been bad if they had left the door unlocked and then a 'different man' crept into the house, if you know what I mean.
If I ever do have a family, I agree with a lot of you that I wouldn't lie to my kids about it. From my own experience (my family is non-religious and my parents are divorced), Christmas is just stressful and expensive as well as been a mix of chaotic and boring, depending on what's happening at the time such as when plans on what you were going to do clash or don't go ahead for some reason.
One of the things that really bugs me is the standard of television at the time - they just seem to shove on so much rubbish such as numerous Christmas/holiday themed TV shows and films take up the schedules. Do they think everyone is going out for the day or just sitting in to watch the television?
So yeah, my belief in him has pretty much subsided.
I say 'pretty much', because...when I was five years old...I had an experience I won't forget.
I was in bed on Christmas Eve and was struggling to sleep because of been excited. I promise you know, I heard sleigh bells and something landing on our roof. Thinking it was Santa, I smiled but turned over and forced my eyes shut.
Just so you know, our roof is not one you can stand on without proper safety measures, and I seriously doubt my dad would have climbed onto the roof in the middle of the night.
I thought I had just imagined it...until I read this: Santa Claus Sightings - Have you had a sighting of Santa Claus?
My main doubts cam from the fact we didn't have a chimney, so when I asked my parents about how he got in, they would say they left the back door unlocked for him.
Let's just say I'm glad they were making it up - that would have been bad if they had left the door unlocked and then a 'different man' crept into the house, if you know what I mean.
If I ever do have a family, I agree with a lot of you that I wouldn't lie to my kids about it. From my own experience (my family is non-religious and my parents are divorced), Christmas is just stressful and expensive as well as been a mix of chaotic and boring, depending on what's happening at the time such as when plans on what you were going to do clash or don't go ahead for some reason.
One of the things that really bugs me is the standard of television at the time - they just seem to shove on so much rubbish such as numerous Christmas/holiday themed TV shows and films take up the schedules. Do they think everyone is going out for the day or just sitting in to watch the television?
So yeah, my belief in him has pretty much subsided.
I say 'pretty much', because...when I was five years old...I had an experience I won't forget.
I was in bed on Christmas Eve and was struggling to sleep because of been excited. I promise you know, I heard sleigh bells and something landing on our roof. Thinking it was Santa, I smiled but turned over and forced my eyes shut.
Just so you know, our roof is not one you can stand on without proper safety measures, and I seriously doubt my dad would have climbed onto the roof in the middle of the night.
I thought I had just imagined it...until I read this: Santa Claus Sightings - Have you had a sighting of Santa Claus?
FlitterFlutter
Active Member
My parents made a big deal about Santa, and even did things like having us put out carrots for the reindeer (and then putting them back in the package while we were asleep) and putting out cookies for Santa (and of course then eating them themselves). I totally believed, no doubts whatsoever.
When I was six and in first grade, I came home and told my mother that the boy next door said there was no Santa. I said it with what I thought was a lot of angry disbelief, like isn't he ridiculous? And we all already knew his family did not celebrate Christmas, anyway. After dinner, my mother called me into the bedroom I shared with my sister, and shut the door. Then, with no leading up to it, she said, "There is no Santa."
I was devastated, and I actually argued with her about it, bringing up the "evidence" - the disappearing carrots and cookies, etc.
It was awful for me. I had not questioned at all (my mother said she thought I was starting to question Santa's existence -- but I don't see how she could have thought that, I mean really -- just because I mentioned that a neighbor who had never celebrated Christmas didn't believe in Santa? Just another mystery about my mom's way of thinking.)
Because of the way it affected me -- I mean really, why would you lie to kids, and then when they are six totally turn their world view upside down in the name of "fun" -- we never tried to make our son think Santa or the Easter Bunny were real. I guess that was a good decision since he is autistic.
My mother didn't come right out and say it, but she strongly implied that it was a little ridiculous for people to worry about hurting their kids by lying about Santa, even though I had explained to her that I was trying to protect my son from the hurt and confusion I had experienced.
I just don't get the idea of bringing up a kid telling them, "This is how the world is," and then on some random day sitting them down and telling them most of what they have taught you to believe is a lie. I don't get it. I don't see any fun in that.
When I was six and in first grade, I came home and told my mother that the boy next door said there was no Santa. I said it with what I thought was a lot of angry disbelief, like isn't he ridiculous? And we all already knew his family did not celebrate Christmas, anyway. After dinner, my mother called me into the bedroom I shared with my sister, and shut the door. Then, with no leading up to it, she said, "There is no Santa."
I was devastated, and I actually argued with her about it, bringing up the "evidence" - the disappearing carrots and cookies, etc.
It was awful for me. I had not questioned at all (my mother said she thought I was starting to question Santa's existence -- but I don't see how she could have thought that, I mean really -- just because I mentioned that a neighbor who had never celebrated Christmas didn't believe in Santa? Just another mystery about my mom's way of thinking.)
Because of the way it affected me -- I mean really, why would you lie to kids, and then when they are six totally turn their world view upside down in the name of "fun" -- we never tried to make our son think Santa or the Easter Bunny were real. I guess that was a good decision since he is autistic.
My mother didn't come right out and say it, but she strongly implied that it was a little ridiculous for people to worry about hurting their kids by lying about Santa, even though I had explained to her that I was trying to protect my son from the hurt and confusion I had experienced.
I just don't get the idea of bringing up a kid telling them, "This is how the world is," and then on some random day sitting them down and telling them most of what they have taught you to believe is a lie. I don't get it. I don't see any fun in that.
I just figured out the whole Santa thing on my own. No one told me. I think there was this unspoken understanding between me and my parents, but we never talked about it out loud because we didn't want to spoil the illusion for my younger brother just yet.
Personally, I was sort of relieved that Santa Claus didn't exist. Before that, I was a little paranoid because I thought he was monitoring my every move, checking to see if I was naughty or nice. I imagined that he had hidden cameras and tape recorders everywhere. In my 6-year-old mind, Santa was like Big Brother, years before I ever read 1984.
Personally, I was sort of relieved that Santa Claus didn't exist. Before that, I was a little paranoid because I thought he was monitoring my every move, checking to see if I was naughty or nice. I imagined that he had hidden cameras and tape recorders everywhere. In my 6-year-old mind, Santa was like Big Brother, years before I ever read 1984.
