I'm a super picky eater and at this point, about ready for social security, I can say I don't hate broccoli anymore. Years of eating it with shrimp at a great Chinese restaurant got me past the hating it to the point I tolerate it. I eat a lot of it, because it helps fill me up, and it's pretty cheap, and it's supposed to be good for me. I can't tolerate any other green vegetable but peas and lettuce. Some of my real hates are cauliflower and green beans. And cooked carrots. Raw are fine, in chinese food, they are usually not really cooked and I can tolerate them, but cooked, they are just revolting.
My childhood traumas, imagined and real, mostly involved being forced to eat all the stuff I found repulsive. My grandmother used to come over to babysit me and my sister, and she would make, from scratch, chicken and egg noodles. I don't like poultry, period, and her forcing me to eat it over and over again has made just the sight of wide egg noodles mildly freak me out. I've had guns aimed at my face by crazed neighbors and that didn't upset me nearly as much as the last time I saw a plate of those wide egg noodles. I know it's crazy, but it's true. I'm kind of glad she passed away as my rage at being forced to eat that **** once a week was growing, just like I was, and a couple of weeks before she began her downward health spiral, I began to think about dumping them on her head, and telling her, "No! You eat it!". Except for a couple of times I've eaten fried chicken, I haven't eaten any other chicken in over 50 years.