"You hate him because he's gay."
When I was growing up, the relative I was closest to growing up was my uncle, who was gay. One summer, my father almost died in an accident, so my mother went to his rehab center to help him get back on his feet for a month. I went to live with my uncle. We talked about almost everything in life, watched tons of Star Trek together... it was one of the best summers of my childhood. I loved that man dearly. On top of that, my closest childhood friend is gay and another childhood friend that I'm close enough with to stay in touch with is also gay. I love all of these people dearly. I've participated in political protests in favor of same sex marriage and taken time off of work to vote in favor of it. I'm about as "pro-gay" as a heterosexual person can get.
Flash forward several years. At the time, I lived by myself in a tiny dormitory room on a college campus. I had just recently discovered that I needed to have invasive surgery after losing a lot of blood and I was dizzy when I stood up. I felt awful.
A friend of mine asked me to go eat dinner with him in the meal room, so I went. I didn't say anything during the meal because I felt awful. My friend's roommate sat down with us, along with a female friend of that roommate that I knew only in the vaguest way. I sat there for a minute feeling miserable and then said, "Excuse me, I gotta go." I actually fell down on the walk back to the dormitory because I was so messed up.
About five minutes later, as I was struggling to get the key into the lock for my dorm room, the girl that sat down with us came storming down the hall toward me. She called me an asshole and then, well, let's repeat it again:
"You hate him because he's gay."
For one, I didn't hate him. I was friendly with him, but he wasn't a close friend. He was the roommate of an actual friend of mine. I would describe my feelings toward him prior to that as neutral leaning toward positive. For another, I had no idea that he was gay, nor would I have cared in the least. For yet another, the only reason I did not converse with him is because I was so ill and had lost so much blood in the last 24 hours that I was having a difficult time standing up or operating a door lock and I was facing an invasive surgery in the extremely near future on top of college finals and the giant pile of school work I needed to deal with.
Since that moment, I've had a very hard time trusting people when they say that they are hated or oppressed. I tend to doubt their story and assume that they're misreading people. I need to see some real evidence of the oppression or hatred before I believe them. Yes, I realize that this person who said "You hate him because he's gay" was a complete fool, but that doesn't change the fact that she introduced me to a strong doubt of claimed victimhood.