How did you parents handle your aspie traits?

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Made me join a few groups like cub scouts but luckily if it did not work out they did not force me to stay. Often "suggested" I talk with a particular person.

I realize I'm late to this party, but...

My mother screamed at and jeered at me for having no friends, told me I was unlikable, f*cked up and needed a shrink because I was crazy (I wish she'd actually sent me), that I was disgusting and sickening, called me Moron-ie (a play on my actual name, Melanie) while braying laughter and elbowing my sister and stepfather to join in laughing, told me I was the cancer of the family and sometimes a cancer needs to be cut out so it can't spread its poison all the while saying wouldn't it be tragic if I had a fatal accident falling down the stairs that the police would never be able to trace to her.

These "lessons" we're designed to "get (me) to start acting normal and make friends."

I learned to fake it. Sort of. Because I did not want to die.

When I didn't do well enough at trying to act "like a normal kid" I was thrown into walls, dragged by my hair through rooms with my head slammed into door jams along the way, thrown down and kicked in the head or in my side, or locked outside in the cold. In addition, my sister's friends, the few friends I was actually able to make, my parent's friends, etc. would be told loudly and in detail, with accompanied laughter and hilarity, about how I'd cried like an infant, messed up in school, wore my clothes the wrong way and looked like a freak, and so on, whatever "wrong" thing I'd done, as punishment for being a crazy cancer who should have been a miscarriage.

It was understood that only a sick cancerous headcase like me could possibly drive a wonderful above average mother like mine to get as mad as she did, further cementing her case that I really must just be THAT bad a child.

Sorry if that sounds distressing.

fnord and nowhere woman - sorry things were so tough.

my parents thought i was a little weird, but were mostly live and let live. it helped that they're both introverts. i'm glad no one knew about AS because my possibilities were never limited.

My parents were overwhelmed, they had too many kids to be quite honest so combined with their jobs + my other siblings who had/have special needs and other other health problems. Nobody really notice and gave much thought to it until I started failing in school, I was always the smart healthy one without dyslexia so I was more or less left to my own devices. There was some friction in my early teen years around the time I was diagnosed but that moved to acceptance which put me back on the back burner. They don't have time for me now even, I wish I wasn't so dependent. I wish I had somebody else to learn on...

Not very well. They yelled at me for talking about my special interests all the time. My dad went through a period where he demanded eye-contact from me. I ended up not giving eye-contact to people that I feel suspicious about and I haven't talked to my parents much about my special interests since I was 15.

My dad and his dad was probabably on the spectrum so being and individual was respected. But mom did enroll me in groups and still makes "suggestions"

When I was growing up, people didn't know about Asperger's and only the low functioning males were diagnosed with autism. For me, my parents put me in Girl Scouts which I actually did like, even if they say I was the outsider in the troop. Later, when I got into playing the violin and sax, they saw that I had friends among the other band geeks. Now for me, math was always a struggle, so my dad was disappointed that I graduated high school with a 3.3GPA instead of a 4.0 that he wanted me to have. It wasn't until I was in my late 20's that I was diagnosed with Asperger's with a possible learning disability in math.

My mom suspected me of having Aspergers sense I was a toddler. My parents never pushed me to make friends but they did criticize lots of my Aspie quirks which caused me to have lots of meltdowns.

my parents were good to me for the most part. I was never overtly punished for being annoying or weird. but as their first child they were so obviously concerned about me and my weird cognition that I understood they considered me different from other kids. I think getting diagnosed at a young age has its pros and cons. they would try to be patient with me and they were great, but neither of them are on the spectrum. only two of my dad's sisters, one of whom is dead and the other suffered a stroke which has rendered her severely disabled, had been diagnosed with autism.

they did get frustrated quite a bit, especially my dad who would sometimes lose his temper, but by the time my aspie traits that would annoy him started to develop he was already way more annoyed by my younger sister who is the most entitled b***h crazy violent monster ever. she's not on the spectrum according to a few doctors but she still has legit issues which has taken my parent's obsessive concern off mine and given it to her crazyness. not sure if its better or worse tbh.

First my father was def. an aspie too, and my mother, I wonder? conformity was not a thing but authority very much, I think any quirks were not allowed, my father hated my youngest brother for parroting and repetetive behaviour when he was little.
As eldest daughter I was given much responsability, which suddenly turned out into the opposite when I started struggling and questioning . Then they tried to lock me up around 17, when I fleed and got some backup they turned that all down, I got the silent treatement and dumped after that.

I can only go by what I've been told by my parents and other family members about my early years (<3y.o.). I guess I was a pretty bad baby. While seated in shopping carts, I would try to grab things in the stores and stash them in the cart while my parents had their backs turned shopping. I often placed inappropriate objects in my mouth. When my mum discovered I had loaded my diaper, I would run away as soon as I realised she was "on to me" and she would have to chase me and take me down to get me changed. The only positive side was that I was quiet. Almost too quiet, even bawling "softly". I never let out wild screams like a lot of bratty kids do in public. I learned to say "mummy" and "daddy" by the age of two, but there wasn't much beyond that for the next year or so that was clearly intelligible. There was another toddler up the street close to my age named Stevie, but I would call him "Theebie". I understand I spoke pretty much in one-word sentences with a horrible lisp until I was almost five when I managed to finally connect noun-verb ideas with my mouth. Perhaps getting tubes put in my ears had helped me understand what others were saying better so I could comprehend language structure. I was due to start Kindergarten in September of 1967 and my mum debated with relatives and professionals about the possibility of holding me back a year and starting school at age 6. (I sort of wish they had.) From this pointe on though, I can personally recall a lot of things.
I started school at 5 anyway which made my language skills take off, however not without issues. Within a few weeks of starting Kindergarten, I brought home my first "f-bomb" and got my mouth washed out with soap when mum heard me say it. I was finally able to tell my mum stories about how things went at school, but I would often have to repeat myself due to continued pronounciation difficulties. Not long after beginning full-day elementary school, my parents were contacted by the school nurse and it was suggested I see a speech pathologist for therapy. After my parents consented, this lady (Mrs. Carlson, IIRC) would meet with me for one afternoon a week, put big-@$$ headphones on me, and have me repeat what I heard being played over them, usually words with a lot of "r" and "s" sounds in them.
I guess my parents became impressed how fast my speech was improving, but now there were other considerations. The more I became confident in speaking, the more I was "butting-in" when I shouldn't. When reminded about my impoliteness, I would retreat and stay quiet for a while. Here came another situation. My parents began noticing I usually liked to play alone, with only certain items, and I would often line up "my favourite things" and not want to put anything away. As my father was in the military, I ended up going to a Child Guidance Clinic on an Air Force base of all places, and seeing this "Dr. Graham" who would put me in this observation room with all sorts of items in boxes and he would watch to see what I chose to take out and play with. After a few sessions Graham reported to my parents that my item picks were not in line with what most boys my age were choosing and that I was likely was a strong-willed unruly kid with possible attention deficit issues. No exact diagnosis was made at that time which makes me wonder if either this Dr.Graham was dumb as a box of rocks or if the military clinical training was totally blind to PDD issues at that particular time of the late 1960's? Graham prescribed me Mellaril and told my parents I should watch MisteRogers on N.E.T. (later PBS). That was all, and even though the pills did improve my performance at school slightly, the MisteRogers thing never went beyond one episode. No way, no how! I do remember it was around this time that I began fearing I might end up in special education with all the "ret*d" kids as we called them in that day, but fortunatly my grades limped along to where I was able to avoid it.
Years later in my teens, after my parents were notified of various socialisation issues in school during parent-teacher conferences, they decided it was time to seek help again. This time at an Army installation where I initially saw a Dr. Rabin at yet another Child Guidance Clinic. I think this dude saw something Dr. Graham missed and referred me to a Dr. Hill at a more specialised practise and was around the first time I ever heard the Autism spectrum mentioned. It was Dr. Hill that ended up detecting my Sensory Processing Disorder. It was also discovered that I had given myself a high-frequency hearing loss from too much loud music and I was fitted with hearing aids. Not long after my SPD diagnosis I was seeing clinical psychologists in a private practise off-base.
My secondary H.F.A. diagnosis would come much later after I was out of high school and seeing professionals on my own effort in preparation for college. Believe it or not, I had never heard of "Aspergers Syndrome" when this happened.

(still not diagnosed, for the record)

I didn't have any conflicts with my parents regarding me being weird or introverted. (Well, during my teens, my step-father started getting really concerned about my disinclination for dating, but by then I was already used to marching to my own beat, and I also knew his opinion wasn't to be trusted for other reasons. So it was mildly annoying but didn't really affect me.) I disagree with most of their parenting decisions, but this is the one thing they definitely did right. They gave me a computer when I was ten and left me the heck alone. Our nosy argumentative neighbor criticized my mom for letting me act like a proper introvert, and my mom (rightfully) just thought she was dumb.

But I had hypersensitivity, and we got into lots of yelling-screaming-crying-violent fights because none of us understood sensory issues. Executive dysfunction was a little bit of a problem too, I think.

I wish they had given me better social skills training (and less spelling drills, jeez), but it's an area they are bad at themselves. Also, ethics? I was kind of a horrible monster to my peers around ages 8 and 9.

According to my mom's stories and what I can personally remember, I was pretty much the most low-maintenance child ever.

They didn't.

My father was raised with a zero tolerance policy to everything. His parents were harsh and beat him etc although he didn't hit us, we were terrified of him.

When I was small I had no choice about what I did, my mother was highly sociable. I was taken to work with her (at a nursery) when very small then when she used to be a childminder I was constantly around other children and her friends.

She also used me as a babysitter from around 10/11 yrs old as I was always the oldest, most mature child of the group.

By my teens I tried to be my own person but endured years of being called weird or strange. She pushed me to be sociable and hang out with kids my age all the time even when I made it clear I didn't want to. People would come to the house or call and I would be going 'no don't let them in/don't answer' but she would anyway. She would get angry with me for staying alone in my room for too long or sitting reading a book all day as this wasn't deemed as normal behaviour. I got asked constantly why I wasn't going out or doing this or that like all the 'normal' kids my age. I honestly think it would have made her happier if I had been drinking, smoking and having sex. At least I would have been 'normal'.

When I left school and began working I started to suffer from depression, anxiety and agoraphobia so I stuck to temporary jobs as this was less stressful and I could leave when I had too much. My mothers reaction to my periods of isolation was to get me another job and force me out into the world.

Even to this day, she constantly tries to make me do things I don't want to do. She doesn't understand why I don't like to be social, why I don't want or need friends. Even though she and my sister have basically said they believe I'm Aspergers (no official diagnosis) they still make no efforts to understand me or leave me alone to live my life the way I want.

My dad is an Aspie [it runs in the family, apparently], so we have an awesome blast playing together and being silly. My mum does understand me quite well and is fully supportive of my writing endeavors [even though I can't spell worth cocobos] and sometimes acts Aspergian herself.

A few people are mentioning that their parents were or probably were on the spectrum. My father was almost certainly OTS - they should put his picture next to "autism" in the dictionary - but sadly, this made him LESS tolerant of my OTS characteristics. For example, he absolutely could not stand sound and I did a lot of verbal "stuff" which would drive him crazy to the point of being enraged. He hit me quite a bit.

My mother, OTOH, though overly-bright and with her own very special set of neuro "issues," was also overly-social and would practically be in a person's lap when speaking to him/her. In addition to being basically certifiably bat-shoot crazy (can we say issues?), she was utterly mystified by the fact that I "refused" to be "just like her" (thank God, I say!) and I was punished all the more. So I got it from both sides until my parents divorced and my father disappeared.

The take-home here: my father being probably OTS did not help me at all. It seemed, in fact, to only aggravate things. And weirdly, though my father being a "nutty professor" and my uncle (my mother's brother) being eerily similar (got that from both sides too!) were considered endearing traits, in me - a female - they were considered beatings-worthy and 100% unacceptable.

They shame me. They try to make me feel guilty for feeling opposed to anything, including when my sister treats me like I'm the worst thing that ever happened. I really am the worst thing that ever happened to her. She is extremely jealous of me. When I was a kid, my sister would constantly bully me and I would end up fearing for my life and screaming and breaking something, including my own belongings, and I would be blamed for everything, and made to feel like I was an awful person. I wanted to die at age 9, I should've stabbed myself with that knife and got my life over and done with.

I'm made to feel like the worst person on Earth for being fearful of my sister. I *do* hate her. She is all on the surface shallow, and my family refuses to believe there is anything wrong with her.

I AM THE ONE WITH THE PROBLEMS. MY SISTER CAN'T DO ***ANY*** WRONG.

It's so funny, isn't it? How I will always be a reetard and my sister is always improving. Oh, she's a total b!tch...but she's getting better.

My sister threatens my whole family...but she's getting better.

My sister tells me to rot in Hell every now and then, and adds that she wishes I'd never been born. And threatens to beat me up every now and then. But don't worry everyone - she's getting better.

She's in her 30s, but of course she's still young and has some growing up to do. She's always getting better.

I get upset over something, or heck, one of the family members gets upset over something. Whose fault is it? It can't be nan's, mum's, or sister's. Nope, it's *smudge* who's causing all the trouble. Ohhhhhh.

It's not my mother who wants to swap tables in a restaurant due to uncomfortable seating. It's smudge's fear of people.

It's not my family who wants the guests to leave, it's smudge and her Asperger's. Ahahaha, typical smudge!

It wasn't my sister who made me want to f***ing die when I was a kid. No, it was smudge holding in all the problems at school all day and letting them out at home.

My sister never did anything wrong. Wait, she did something wrong? Such a silly idea!