If it means anything, I interpreted the comment to be surprise at the lack of autonomy shown to you by family at that age. Pretty typical "sit down shut up drink your tea" scenario for kids under... say, 12. Pretty abnormal for your preferences to be ignored so harshly at 16.
Okay, I can forgive that interpretation, which hadn't occurred to me. It sounded like "you were acting like a child, just drink the damn tea."
My grandmother was 52 years older than me, and had some very definite ideas of some things that were socially appropriate and inappropriate once I was older than about 12. Those included drinking tea or coffee (she felt milk was only for children and chided me for being a lifelong milk drinker; explanations about calcium and osteoporosis went nowhere), playing "grownup" card games (she felt everyone should know how to play the 'grownup' versions of rummy - with bidding, trumps, bowers, and a bunch of other terms they tried to teach me and I never did learn); finally my dad taught me Canasta, and that put a stop to the grumbling because she decided that Canasta is a sufficiently grownup game that it would do... and her last big rule was that after I turned 13, it was inappropriate for my dad and me to hug.
After she died many years later, I told my dad that hugging was okay, and there were times when I really needed them - that had been my grandmother's rule, not mine.
Her point at this gathering, which she didn't exactly say but I understood (even if I didn't like it) was that when you're visiting someone else's home, you eat and drink what you're given, unless they ask your preference. My grandmother knew I didn't want tea, but told me I had to drink it anyway because it was rude not to.
At least I've got a valid excuse for stating preferences now. Medical issues dictate that I can no longer have certain foods or beverages, and it's fascinating how some people think that "just one glass/cup won't hurt."
Well, yeah, they will. That's why I avoid them. My dad was never the militant "eat/drink what I put in front of you" type but even he had trouble understanding that no, I really couldn't help him drink the dozen 2-litre bottles of grapefruit-flavored pop he'd bought, because I can't tolerate much in the way of citrus - even the fake stuff.
The last cup of tea I had was at the nursing home he lived in (and where he died). A few days after his death I had to go back to finish paperwork, the person doing it was busy, so they offered me a cup of tea in the dining room. I figured okay, I could tolerate that because otherwise I'd just sit in the lobby and fume... and it turned out that they were having a "high tea" - fancy teacups, cucumber sandwiches, and the works. They made a point of putting me at a table with women who were able to carry on a conversation (there was another table where they had the women who were like my dad - dementia, so conversing with them would have been difficult at best), and it actually wasn't bad.
Turns out that when someone dies there, they don't notify the residents, so the women at the table who knew my dad hadn't been told he had died. They hadn't seen him for awhile and assumed he was either in the hospital or eating in his room. They were appreciative that I'd told them, and I guess it must be frustrating when friends and acquaintances suddenly don't show up when expected and you're never told why.
The tea itself was okay (cranberry) and I had my first experience with cucumber sandwiches. They're okay as something to try, but they're not at all filling.
If You ever have a chance that is 
