When I was 15 years old I used to write a lot. It was before I started to be interested in visual art. I was a very quiet teenage girl, never talking too much but always writing personal stories, poems, lyrics etc.… Once when my mother secretly read my writings, it caused the conflict between us. I guess she was just scared that I would hide things from her, that instead of talking to her I would only write. And so she would never find out if I had any problems or difficulties as a teenage girl. I really felt that I failed her expectations and in some way closed myself to her. That is why one day I collected all I had, all my writings, papers and burnt them. It was my proud sacrifice - returning to my mother. After that I completely stopped writing and came to the idea that I could not write properly and that I don’t have any talent.After some time I started to draw on paper very symbolic drawings with black pen, but without conscious understanding of what was going on deep in myself. Unconsciously I changed the way I used to express myself and made my new language veiled from my mother. When it came to my mind that it was similar to what I was writing before I eventually stopped creating such kind of drawings. After all these years, I understood, that through this action of prohibition to write, my mother has committed an act of (symbolic) castration. This sort of castration might prevent us from joy, pleasure of writing, pleasure of creating or even sexual pleasure.