Broke one meal a day no biscuits or fanciness, family, and failure to eat what you were given was disobedience, which meant punishment.
As a little girl when I realized I was eating animals, and just stopped. But children didn't get to 'choose' and vegetarianism came under fussy eating and faddyness.
Initial reaction was eat it or get nothing which was fine. But passing out at school drew attention, so it became you will eat what's given, one way or another.
Frequently left on the floor overnight sobbing at a congealed plate. Humiliation and violence starting over at daylight. Groundhog day come evening. We didn't have a fridge so when as it started to get high I'd be warned it had to be eaten now. It would be the justification for being knelt on and forcibly fed, involving much gagging snot tears blood and vomiting.
One week bribery was tried. A bar of rum and raisin chocolate was put in front of me. To me it was a really big luxury item. I could have a square of this amazing stuff for each mouthful of meat I ate. It was tempting. I did two mouthfuls and earned two squares of chocolate, but balked at the third, and was allowed to try and eat it with the food to try overriding it. For me it was the end of it, I'd tried, and even this amazing stuff wasn't enough. But children didn't get to decide.
I did two overnights with that plate of food and the oh so desirable chocolate, but disgust at eating flesh was greater than desireable chocolate. (I remember sniffing it to death though!)
Choosing to forgo it rather than comply was the final insult and I lost teeth for it.
Sent away by authorities to be fattened up three winters in a row as a child 'unlikely to see spring.' Survival schemes did exist for those not thriving.
Allowed there to eat as I wanted and a steady stream of Welsh cakes and dandelion and Burdock. Amazing but also confusing. Food went from hell to heaven so I could go back to hell.
Ended up going in and out of 'care' (many reasons) with vicious nuns who meted out twisted punishments for continuing 'disobedience over what God had ordained and provided for my worthless self.' Often starved.
Eventually hospitalized after seeing a grubby privet bush as a tasty option.
Child psychiatrist tried and failed to cure my fussy eating and opinions.
I would imagine generations of children before me also found starving and violence easier to deal with than instinctive visceral reactions to some food, for whatever reasons.