I remember what it felt like to have my heart ripped into two one December afternoon. I couldn’t tell you what year it was but I want to say I was 9 or 10 when it happened, and it was the day I found out my parents had been lying to me for years. The day that I found out that Father Christmas didn’t exist.
It was a neighbour that had put doubt in my mind after friends had told her the year before that Santa didn’t exist, but we didn’t want to believe that. However, the following year she was searching for something in her mum’s room and found a Nintendo DS and Nintendogs behind a chair with lots of other goodies. We decided that if it ended up under her tree on Christmas Day that Santa wasn’t responsible, and guess what she unwrapped on the big day…
The following Christmas, I went on a hunt for my presents. Lo and behold, I got the same things from Santa that happened to be in my mum’s wardrobe. I was actually pretty heartbroken to be fair, and I couldn’t believe that my parents had been lying to be for all that time.
My parents still haven’t actually confirmed that Saint Nick is a fictional character, but I think they’ve accepted that my brother and I know who puts all of the presents under the tree ready for Christmas Day. This year we’ve not even asked to write a list for Father Christmas (I mean I’m 21 but we still usually write lists) and just been asked to send a link over for what we’re after.
I’m so sorry if I’ve spoilt the magic of Christmas for anyone out there like my friend did for me. Hope you weren’t as heartbroken as I was when you found out the truth!
Check out my other blogmas posts here