I was born in mainland China. My parents left me with my grandmother and my uncle when I was a few months old so they could work in Hong Kong. My grandmother and I moved to Hong Kong when I was 5 years old. A year or two after our arrival, my parents moved to Singapore, then the States, for my father's work.
I came to the States to join my parents and my younger brother when I was in 8th grade. My father traveled often for work. My mother was a housewife.
I had a good life in Asia. Being the only grandchild at the time, my grandmother (and my uncle) took very good care of me.
As a toddler, grandma carried me everywhere. She did not want me to get my hands/feet dirty so I was never allowed to crawl. When I started to learn to walk, my grandmother was always by my side. The first time I fell, I was 3.5 years old. I didn't know to hold my face up when it happened, so I fell face first. I stayed in that position crying, waiting for my grandmother, because I didn't know what I was supposed to do. 
I was enrolled in an elementary school that was 20 min away from our flat in Hong Kong. Up until 5th grade, my grandmother walked me to school and picked me up everyday. She thought I was very naive and gullible for my age. I had a tendency to believe everything people said. She was particular about who I befriended. I was only allowed to interact with the "good students" in my grade. I was well sheltered.
I don't know what aspie traits I showed as a child. My father had an aversion for crying. He said crying was only acceptable when there was a death in the family. His method of getting me out of a crying spell as a child was to keep spanking me until I stopped. He was strict about it, too. I remember when I was around 7 or 8, I fell and scratched my knees. My father had to put alcohol on it. He warned me about crying before he did so. I knew what crying would bring about so I toughed it out. Obviously, I am not condoning this method, it was just what my father did.
My family always said that I had a bad temper. I was an obedient child, but I was also known to throw temper tantrums if things didn't go my way. I don't recall any specifics though. I know because of my father, any dissatisfaction that I had during my younger years were mostly expressed as bouts of silence.
Elementary school years were relatively uneventful. I didn't have any close friends. I got a lot of attention from my grandmother and my uncle (my uncle and aunt moved in with us after my parents left for the States). It did not bother me. My grandmother did not care if I hung out with kids of my own age or not. She was too worried about me hanging out with the wrong group of friends and making bad decisions.
I was a pretty good student. My grandmother and my uncle were always on top of my academia. They felt it was their duty to make sure I was doing well in school. They spent a lot of one-on-one study sessions with me. When I was in 6th grade, my grandmother hired a private tutor to help me stay ahead. I was not a particularly bright student but I was studious. All my teachers thought I was quiet. I never caused any problem in classrooms. I was not Miss Popularity but because I maintained good grades, I was respected among my peers.
Aside from studying, I became interested in books, mostly comic books and fairy tales. I spent many weekends walking to our local library half an hour away just to borrow three books (the library's limit).
Did I hang out with friends? Sure, I remember spending time with them at playgrounds and playing games with them at parks. I was not an outgoing child though. I preferred quiet time with my books more.
My parents visited me occasionally, but much of our interaction was via long distance phone calls. They were expensive back in the 1980s. Throughout my years in Hong Kong, my grandmother repeatedly told me that my father worked hard to provide for me. I had to be appreciative of my parents' efforts, and I was.
My parents called me at least once a week. A typical phone call included asking me how I was doing, if I had been obedient to my grandmother, and how school was. When I was 10 or so, I told my father since our phone conversations were pretty much the same very time, he didn't have to call me so often. I didn't want to waste his money. My good intention was not received well by him. I think I ended up extending our phone call by an extra 15 minutes.
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