The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. It was Christmas Eve. I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn't home. So Mom called the office. No answer. Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search. Four or five days went by. Neither one of us could eat or sleep. Everything was falling apart. It was snowing outside. The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire. That's when I noticed the smell. The firemen came and broke through the chimney top. And me and Mom were expecting them to pull out a dead cat or a bird. And instead they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He'd been climbing down the chimney... his arms loaded with presents. He was gonna surprise us. He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly. And that's how I found out there was no Santa Claus.

never really believed in that

my parents and grandparents handwriting on the presents from santa

My teacher was joking about Santa being fake and one of the girls started silently sobbing

Her parents later emailed the teacher thanking her because they didn't know how to tell their daughter

I was told about Santa when I was three, and immediately said that it didn't make sense because reindeer can't fly. My older sister believed in it until she was seven, however.

Just now, in this thread.

Literally shaking rn.

I was in 3rd grade and some salty kid was butthurt because they found out Santa wasn't real from an older sibling, and decided to ruin Christmas that year for the whole damn class. I remember going home and crying to my parents, and being even more heartbroken when they admitted Santa was a hoax.

My sister and I figured it out, but my mom confirmed it when she got a bit tipsy at the state fair on a particularly warm day. The web of lies unraveled then: Easter Bunny, tooth fairy, God, etc.

When I noticed that my parents used the EXACT SAME wrapping on the gifts.

just kinda gradually figured it out on my own

by 4th grade i was 100% a nonbeliever and when i tried preaching to my friends they all ganged up on me

Was a gradual deduction. As I got older the story started to make no real sense and finally my parents asked me if I believed in him and I was like naaaah. Then they confirmed and told me not to tell my sister.

S-santa is not real?

They just randomly decided to tell me one day, along with all other holiday characters. I was pissed off at them for a few weeks for what felt like betrayal.

I mean I had always questioned how it was possible for Santa to travel to every house in one night, but that's not even why they told me. It really seemed like it was just on a random whim when they did it.

hard to say exactly when. i think i was 7 or 8. i didnt admit it til much layer though because my folks always told me that if you stopped believing in Santa Claus i would stop getting presents from him. i just wanted more presents.

Seriously though, when I was five or six my sister thanked our parents for the presents, and then corrected herself by thanking "Santa" when she realized I was in the room.

My parents told me when I was seven, but they needn't have bothered because the damage had already been done.