Well, I've been living with my SO only for 20 years now and he doesn't bother me about my stims. He has his own little "stims", such as rubbing his socked foot against carpet that if he continues for too long the sound of it will drive me absolutely batty. My stims are quiet with the exception of hand wringing, if that's the right term.
I rocked with gusto until about age 7 in front of my family (or their friends) until a friend of my sister's made a comment about how weird it was. This embarrassed my sister and was also the first time I felt ashamed of it, so I always hid in my room to do it after that. My brother looked down at me for it, and would sometimes barge into my room and catch me on purpose just so he could sneer at me. God, I hated that.
My father continually got at me for feeling/picking at my face. Still does when I see him, which isn't very often.
I had to stop rocking by my early 30's for spinal health reasons. My anxiety went up significantly since then. It's been gradually replaced by pacing and flapping, without intent. Which reminds me, sometimes my pacing does get to my SO if he's around. Mostly I save the intense stimming for when I'm alone. Flapping and holding my hands in a weird position tend to just happen without thinking. I have to hold one hand down with the other, vice them between my knees or sit on them sometimes.
Btw, it's my extreme stimming that led me to my initial connection with autistics, long before I knew of the spectrum. Thinking back on my childhood back in the 70's, I don't know how it didn't get me a visit to a shrink. But then I remember what my mom's like - she's in her own world (as am I), often oblivious or unconcerned with things other mom's would freak over. (She hated noise though, especially shrieking or fighting, but I was pretty quiet outside of my music, which she didn't mind so much.)