One minute we believe, and the next, we don’t. Sometimes, we remember the exact moment, the minute we discovered that Santa wasn’t real. These are some of those stories.

As told by Kacie Nicholson:

“Ever since I was little, I had always been skeptical of this ‘Santa Claus.’ I’ve heard everything from ‘it’s parents” to “may be fairies.’ I remember sitting at my computer and typing in “is Santa real?” into Google, revealing answers from Yahoo and ask.com. Not reliable sources.

I grew up a bit more, forgetting about my quest to find Santa. One Christmas Eve, I was up late on the family computer, simply playing around with games. That’s when Dad walked in and stopped dead in his tracks. We stared for a long time before I asked if he needed help, because there were still two siblings of mine that still believed.”

As told by Bella Mora:

“In the middle of second grade, I lost my tooth. Yay, I’m so excited, right — who wouldn’t be? Because that means the tooth fairy is coming and that means money. Booya! But for some odd reason, the tooth fairy forgot. Yes, forgot. Like, how can you forget? Well, anyways, the tooth fairy forgot to get my tooth for like a week!

So, I asked my mom why, because that wasn’t cool and when I asked, she was really weird about it. She said ‘That’s it, Bella!’ I said, ‘What’s it, Mom?’ and then that moment changed my life for good. She told me that the Tooth Fairy wasn’t real, then….the Easter Bunny…and then, it hit me hard, and I mean hard. I said, ‘What about Santa?’ And then ‘WAAAAH!’ I started to cry. Just the look on her face, I knew then and there that he wasn’t real and I was heartbroken.”

As told by Carsen Van der Linden:

“I was an incredibly trusting child. If my parents said it, I believed it, no questions asked. And I guess that’s probably why (despite several schoolmates teasing and joking about it) I adamantly believed in Santa Claus until about halfway through the fifth grade. No, I wasn’t stupid. And yes, I had access to the Internet. I was just so strongly attached to the image of Santa as a part of the holidays and my own happiness that I simply didn’t want to let it go. I wouldn’t let myself believe it (and on the off chance it was all real, I feared coal in my stocking). So eventually, my parents were forced to play intervention for my own sake. They buttered me up by taking me to a movie that was out that day, and telling me that it was okay to play on the family computer for as long as I wanted. And then, my dad took me to the car, drove me to the mailbox on the corner, turned around and said to me:

‘Carsen, sometimes Santa needs a little help, so, it’s usually Mom and I that are giving you presents, not him.’

I immediately started sniffling. I knew what was coming.

‘But Dad,” I said, “That doesn’t make sense…I…’,

He cut me off.

‘Do you just want the truth, Carsen?’

At that moment, I lost it. I was in tears. I felt like my whole life was a lie, like Christmas was ruined, the whole nine yards. But, luckily, an emergency trip to Coldstone helped my desperate father remedy the situation. ”

As told by Nowaf Sanif:

“The way I found out [that Santa isn’t real] wasn’t with words but by a total accident. I was 10 years old and sleepless on Christmas Eve. I (being 10) was curious of the noises went to get a peek downstairs. I quietly crept around a corner and saw my parents older brother and neighbor putting presents under the tree, so I stormed down the stairs and declared Santa isn’t real. I then walked upstairs and went to sleep.”

As told by Angie Reed:

“I knew Santa wasn’t real before my parents told me, because I was like a little Sherlock Holmes and I found the wrapping paper in her closet because I was snooping around.  My mom always had to hide my presents really well because I could roam any part of the house. I still don’t know where she puts them — maybe in the wrapping paper? But she told me like a few days before Christmas and was super awkward about it, and I was all ‘I know.’ She was just kind of like, ‘Wait, what you what?’ I said ‘Mom, I put two and two together.  You have the same wrapping paper. Fat men don’t fly.’
And that was it. I was probably about 12 or 13. But I stopped believing and started playing along when I was maybe 9 or 10.”

by HARMONY REILLY