My mother was like this. Particularly in regard to food.
"Have some ham"
"Oh - no thank you. I don't like ham"
"Yes you do - ham's lovely"
"I don't. I've never liked ham."
"Everyone likes ham"
"I don't. Please - you just enjoy it. I'm fine."
"You can't eat just vegetables!"
"Honestly - they're lovely!"
"Rubbish! Look - -just have one slice of ham."
"Mam - honestly. I don't like it. I've never liked it."
"That's because you won't eat it"
"No! - I won't fucking eat it because I don't fucking LIKE it!"
Then she'd slam a lump onto your plate.
Then she'd complain about the "waste" because you'd left it.
Then she'd look all hurt and say how she "couldn't do right for doing wrong" and make you feel crap.
(And she would also sneak "ham" into dished with comparatively unidentifiable ingredients and strong spices flavours, and say "Did you like that curry." "Yes - it was very nice" "HA!!!! It was HAM!!!!! There was HAM in it!!!!! You say you don't like ham and there was HAM in there and you ate it and liked it!!!!! I told you you liked ham, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
It wore me out . . . . )