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[Deleted member 66627]

n

 

[Bugman]

I shed that notion by age five or six. For one thing we never lived in a house with a chimney, and while some of the gifts my brothers and I got were labeled as being from Santa, we knew better. By the time I was thirteen or fourteen we dropped the whole pretense of observing Christmas.

 

[milagros317]

At the age of five, I was able to figure out that nobody would have time in one night to visit and leave presents even in all the apartments that I could see from the roof of the apartment building that we lived in at that time. Even at that age, I knew that I was able to see only a small fraction of New York City, and that there were plenty of other cities, too.

 

[TonyInMyThroat]

Growing up in a typical northeast baby-boomer era, Irish/Italian multi-child packed into tiny houses neighborhood; by the age of five, with the word on the street, my mother was getting hysterical rants like:

“Marky, Ricky, Danny, Terry, Mikey, Davey, Timmy, Tommy, Joey, Robby, Johnny, and Brian say there is no Santa Claus!”

Her response:

“Well, if you don’t believe in Santa, he won’t come.”

That "worked" for a few years …

 

[Dussicar]

Who wants to hear something really fucked up?

I stopped believing in god before I stopped believing in Santa.

I quite honestly can't remember what age I was, but the funniest statement about that I had overheard was my nephew.

"I was told about Santa Clause...Now I know the horrible, horrible truth."

 

[Soda Bobinski]

I think it was when I was in the 3rd grade when I stopped believing in Santa.

 

[C.A.B.]

what... what do you mean, "Stopped believing"?!

 

[BrightEyes1082]

I'm 31 and I still listen for bells on Christmas Eve. :/

 

[Tickleslave83]

I never stopped believing in Santa. He's real, he's a black panther and he's pissed off lol. But seriously I probably stopped believing in Santa Claus at age 9 or 10. I never thought about it much though. I've yet to stop believing in Krampus though.

 

[milagros317]

I'm 31 and I still listen for bells on Christmas Eve. :/

I'm sure that helps keep you young in spirit, Amanda. 😀

 

[chicago]

I was about 3. Woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and saw my parents sitting in the living room wrapping presents. Kinda was obvious at that point and I'm still pissed they couldn't put in a little more effort to keep some of the magic alive for a few more years.

 

[Dialon]

I actually legitimately believed in Santa up to the point where I was a freshman in high school. Shameful, I know, but I was (am) gullible and my parents would quite honestly make good con-artists. I would actually debate people my age about why I thought Santa actually was real. I eventually just stopped believing in him because I became rational at the early age of 16, go figure.

 

[firegod86]

I was 10. Finally asked and was told. My brother however didn't care about it and told my nephew when he was just 5.

 

[maniactickler]

I was 17

 

[Libertine]

The Sceptic
Robert W. Service
(Rhymes of a Rolling Stone, pub. 1912)

My Father Christmas passed away
When I was barely seven.
At twenty-one, alack-a-day,
I lost my hope of heaven.

Yet not in either lies the curse:
The hell of it’s because
I don’t know which loss hurt the worse—
My God...
or Santa Claus.

 

[Backstep]

I think that there are figures in our society that are, in a sense, made real by our collective image of their character. Santa Claus, Sherlock Holmes, Paul Bunyan... not that they were ever flesh and blood, but that our collective image of who they are and were gives them a weight and presence in our minds as strong as people we've never met but know who they are (President Obama, as an example). And we can talk about and debate what kind of people they are even if they've never flown a sled around the world, solved a baffling London murder or owned a blue ox.

From that point of view, those characters are 'real,' as they are passed down from one generation to another, leaving an impact on us, even if they never walked and talked with us. Our archetypes and shared stories are a part of us, exemplifying the best and worst of what we have to offer. So, I'd argue that a figure as beloved and well-known as Santa really does live in us collectively.

I just stopped leaving milk and cookies out for him, that's all.

 

[Dussicar]

The Sceptic
Robert W. Service
(Rhymes of a Rolling Stone, pub. 1912)

My Father Christmas passed away
When I was barely seven.
At twenty-one, alack-a-day,
I lost my hope of heaven.

Yet not in either lies the curse:
The hell of it’s because
I don’t know which loss hurt the worse—
My God...
or Santa Claus.

Sounds better than what I said.

 

[watermellon]

Like 4 years old lol. My mom said I would question how santa could fit down the chimney haha. Same thing with religion, I questioned god at that age too

 

[Mitchell]

I never really believed in him. I lived in Manhattan when I was little, and used to talk to Santas in the Dept stores, but I never really believed in the whole guy that comes down the chimney on Xmas Eve. That may have also been because I lived in apts until I was seven.

 

[Bohemianne]

Around 8 years old.

 

[kered]

He is alive and well, you heartless, jaded, stinky crudballs. *except Bohemianne who is always nice and beautiful and non-stinky.*

 

[tickledorange]

I never did. My mom rolled her eyes at me because I didn't find it possible as a young kid that a fat guy had deer pull a sled around the world in one night.

 

[Flatfoot]

I think that there are figures in our society that are, in a sense, made real by our collective image of their character. Santa Claus, Sherlock Holmes, Paul Bunyan... not that they were ever flesh and blood, but that our collective image of who they are and were gives them a weight and presence in our minds as strong as people we've never met but know who they are (President Obama, as an example). And we can talk about and debate what kind of people they are even if they've never flown a sled around the world, solved a baffling London murder or owned a blue ox.

From that point of view, those characters are 'real,' as they are passed down from one generation to another, leaving an impact on us, even if they never walked and talked with us. Our archetypes and shared stories are a part of us, exemplifying the best and worst of what we have to offer. So, I'd argue that a figure as beloved and well-known as Santa really does live in us collectively.

I just stopped leaving milk and cookies out for him, that's all.

For me, I prefer the image of Father Christmas from the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. He was a warrior who gave children deadly weapons to fight against an evil Ice Queen. 😀

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EY-fhfuDEUA

As far as to when I stopped believing in Santa Claus, I vaguely remember being about eight years old. I had a friend who was nine years old break the news to me that Santa wasn't real, and that my parents were the ones who delivered presents on Christmas. I argued with him, and eventually told my parents what he was saying. They nonchalantly told me the truth, figuring it was about time that I know. I don't really remember what I felt then, other than mild disappointment of the nonexistence of a fantastical being, and at being lied to about his existence.

 

[ticklemetrix]

I still believe. It keeps Christmas magical for me. I love it and I see miracles everywhere!

 

[TiickleNiicole]

From what I remember and from what my family have told me I was 6. I remember being 5 and sneaking down to my basement and seeing my parents and everyone else carrying presents in and setting things up so I kinda got the hint lol.