How did you learn (or figure out) there was no Santa, how old were you and what impact did it have on you?
For me it was the Easter Bunny. When I was five years old I got up from bed for some reason. When I stepped out of my bedroom I looked downstairs and saw my parents fixing our Easter baskets. I realized that my parents were the Easter bunny. I admit to a slight disappointment, but I didn’t cry. I just went back to bed and back to sleep. After all, the candy would still taste the same in the morning. So that Christmas I just knew my parents were Santa. No big deal. The toys were just as much fun to play with. Though my big brothers did force me to state my belief that there was a Santa Claus. I didn’t believe in Santa, but I did believe my brothers were more than capable of withholding their X-mas gifts if I didn’t give in to their blackmail.
(As a guest I can’t search, so, Moderators, if this has already been done, feel free to close this out.)
I had walked behind the car and saw in the trunk just before my parents quickly shut it. They asked me if I had seen anything and I lied and said “No.” Later I had gotten the A-Team action set I had seen from Santa. I realized what was up. I was completely unaffected by it. I was 9 at the time.
My brother and I just sort of figured it out. We did keep up the ruse because we figured that if we let on that we didn’t believe in Santa we’d stop getting that extra present in the morning.
I don’t know when I figured out, I don’t remember a time when I ever believed in Santa. Before kindergarden, at least. However, I did believe that if my parents knew I didn’t believe in Santa, then I wouldn’t get any presents, so I kept pretending I did for quite some time.
I’m not sure I still believed, but I do remember the first time I stayed awake in bed long enough to hear my parents rustling around and setting things up under the tree. I was probably about 8.
I don’t really remember. I think I figured it out on my own, but I’m not sure. It was either undramatic or so psychologically scarring that I’ve repressed every memory of it. My money’s on the former.
According to my mother, when I was in kindergarten I was reported to the teacher by one of my classmates for saying that believing in Santa Claus was “immature.” I don’t remember this incident, and I really don’t remember when I stopped believing in SC.
However, under my parents tree, or in the Christmas box from Mom if I can’t get home, there’s always a present for me from Santa.
I had my suspicions at the age of 5 but I could not be 100% sure, so I just kept quiet about it for a whole year. The next christmas I stayed awake until my parents crept in and filled my stocking. I was not at all disappointed - quite the reverse in fact being delighted at having outwitted the grown-ups.
I don’t remember doing this, but my oldest son swears I did…He said when he asked me whether Santa was real, I refered him to Occam’s Razor. He was 7 or 8 at the time. I guess I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings but he was obviously already on the edge of enlightenment so I just pushed him over.
An older girl told me there was no Santa when I was 5. I don’t remember being particularly bent out of shape about it.
this isn’t completely related, only slightly, but I’ll share anyway
I was in kindergaten, my first exposure to non-jewish kids. They went on and on about Christmas and Santa Claus and the chimney and presents and such. The morning of December 25th, I ran to the den (where our fireplace was) and was absolutely crestfallen to find no decorations, no footprints in the ashes, and worst of all, no presents.
me: Mommy! I don’t understand! I was very good all year! Wasn’t I?
anymom: Yes you were, but you already got your presents last week at Chanukah.
The Easter Bunny wasn’t an issue - because, after all, we had Elijah! ;j
An miffed and infuriated 8 year old girl approches her Dad after compiling all the evidence required to debunk the Santa Claus myth:
“You lied to me about Santa, how could you?”‘It wasn’t really a lie in the literal, negative sense of the word. It’s really no different than taking you to Disney World and not mentioning the fact that giant, mute Mickey Mouse is really a pimply faced teenager in a giant rodent suit.’“Yes it is a lie. You never suggested we bake cookies for Mickey Mouse”‘Well, that’s true. But those cookies didn’t go to waste; I ate them - and they were quire good. Don’t worry about the milk either…it didn’t go to waste, I poured it back into the container.’“Stop trying to change the subject. You broke your rule about lying. And speaking of your rules, 'all actions have consequences.”’‘You’re right Sweety. I shouldn’t have lied. It wasn’t my intention to erode the trust you have in me.’“I’m not talking about trusting you, Dad. You lied about the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy too. What I’m mad about is how stupid I would have looked if I had gotten married, had children, and Christmas morning the kids woke up and there was nothing under the tree for them to open!”
I don’t remember. My only memory attached to a real Santa is of thinking about a radio broadcast about how NASA or the Air Force or like that was tracking the sleigh in its progress on Christmas Eve. I think I watched the skies with interest after that, in case it turned out to be true after all. But mostly, I read a lot and watched a lot of movies, and I just sort of recognized a story when I heard one from very early on, I guess.
the first I ever heard of Santa Claus not being real was when I was in daycare… I’m not sure how old I was, but a slightly older girl told me that Santa Claus was “a bunch of baloney.” I got mad at her and argued with her for awhile, and I never liked her after that.
a couple years later, I must have been 8 or 9, and I was talking on the phone with my grandma. I don’t remember the context, but I know she said “you’re too old to believe in Santa Claus, aren’t you?” and I was completely taken aback. I didn’t cry or get angry, but I always felt that was so inconsiderate of her.
some years ago, the week before xmas, I was getting my hair cut. The woman cutting my hair was young but not that young and she asked me what I wanted Santa to bring me. I gave an exhausted laugh and said, “If only. I am Santa, I’ve been running around all week buying things for the kids stockings [they were still little at the time, I don’t know if they still Believed] and trying to find hiding places so they won’t suspect. I would like for Santa to leave me a couple of helpful elves.”
She. . .dropped her scissors. Then she picked them up, all flustered, and said something like, "So it’s true, nobody ever told me. So it’s really your parents?"
I thought she was joking. But I don’t think she could have given me such a truly bad haircut unless she was really upset. Here she was, at least 20 years old, and nobody had enlightened her. And she hadn’t figured it out.