Mine is writing, but (besides my parents completely oblivious to my early interest, or any of my completed writings) at school, once, a notebook I was writing in (some childish fiction, but still) was flung straight out of a nearby window by a teacher.
...and that's all the attention anyone ever gave me. These days I seem to be unable to write any other fiction (although I still keep a diary with my abstract ideas)... although, I suppose that's a rational response considering the above.