I was presenting on a trans panel recently, and the facilitator asked each of us to introduce ourselves and say a little about ourselves, including whether we were pre-op, post-op, or non-op. Although I was slightly taken aback, I simply waited my turn and explained that I don’t identify myself by my operations.
I have covered this before (and I usually keep it covered), and I realize that this is a very common practice. When I first wrote about it, almost two years ago, I found it problematic, but I really didn’t care if someone used the “op” word to refer to me. Times have changed, and so have I.
Aside from the fact that this is only someone’s business if I want it to be (and I usually do talk about it in presentations), it is basically a useless descriptor that immediately gets an audience concentrating on my genitals (I guess I shouldn’t complain – at least somebody is).
It might seem as if I should have bigger things to worry about, but as public accommodations laws are being debated and the focus has turned to “bathroom bills,” I think that this is becoming a bigger issue – or it should be.
The “op” words have become common adjectives – descriptors for ourselves. Blogs, news articles, and other sources, particularly within our own community, use these terms frequently when they refer to trans people.
We introduce ourselves this way: “I’m John, and I’m a pre-op trans man” or “I’m Jane, and I’m a post-op trans woman.” We might as well say, “I’m John, and I’m a dickless trans man” or “I’m Jane, and I’m a vaginally endowed trans woman” – because these terms specifically refer to genitalia.
We don’t generally refer to ourselves or each other as “post-op” when we’ve had some type of chest modification. Nobody calls me “post-op” because I’ve had gall bladder surgery. We are literally describing ourselves through our genitals.
I realize how important “post-op” is to those who are – if you’ve waited all your life to have something or to get rid of it, you might want nothing more than to let people know that this is the case. It’s kind of like working for years for a PhD. Suddenly, you want everyone to call you “doctor,” and you won’t sign your name without adding the necessary letters. It’s understandable – you put in the work, and you want the recognition.
It is similar, I believe, for some trans people. While we haven’t taken to putting “op” phrases before or after our signatures, we have put in the work (a lifetime of suffering and the whole surgery thing), and now we want the recognition, not to mention the legitimization.
Those who use “pre-op” want to make it clear that they’re on the path – they just haven’t reached their destination yet. And “non-ops” are basically illegitimate, bucking the system, or completely lost.
I’m transsexual, and I have considered myself transsexual for the last fourteen years. I don’t have a dick, and I no longer care, so this isn’t a sour-grapes post. I don’t mind telling people that I don’t have a dick. But I do mind telling people that I’m “non-op,” because I think it’s a false classification.
When we make “op” status a central part of our existence, our self-definition, and our definition of others in our community, we legitimize every discriminatory action that’s been taken against us based on genitalia. And we de-legitimize ourselves as anything but a walking penis or vagina.
I used to think it was a small thing, but I’m not so sure that it is anymore (well, mine is, but I’m talking about the issue, not what I was issued). I really think we’ve got to stop seeing ourselves this way and defining ourselves by our surgery.
I have no problem talking about my decision not to have lower surgery. But I’m not going to introduce myself as a “dickless trans man” – which is exactly what “pre-op” and “non-op” mean.
Why are we the only group that seems expected to introduce ourselves by describing our genitals? I don’t really care what’s in anyone else’s pants, but I can be just as curious as the next guy if it turns into a requirement for everybody. Until then, I am still in favor of losing these “op”-tions altogether.
Thoughts?





My feelings have changed since getting my orchiectomy. I used to be mildly annoyed by the non-shy questions people would throw at me about my genital status. But I was willing to go there no matter what to help people understand…to be a teacher…
Now I find it hard to answer questions in a simple manner. When someone says “Have you had surgery?” it’s clear they are talking about genital reconstruction and that they do not know about the option I took. It’s not something I can explain in a few words, and I’m finding it harder and harder to dredge up the interest in doing so at all.
I was really only concerned about changing my birth certificate…and I have…and I don’t have the money to go any further with surgeries. But all of that seems like too much to explain to people. Also, they sorta glaze over anyway. They ask, and then they show no real interest in the real answer.
Going forward I’ll probably find a new mantra. Something like “Surgeries are the least of my journey and I make it a policy to not focus on that”.
Amen!
I refuse to add any qualifiers to legitimize who I am. I never introduced myself as a Pacific Islander or former foster kid or…..you get the idea.
I am Michael. Enough said. Period.
Sorry-forgot to say that unless the person is about to get in my pants (a guy can dream), they don’t need to know anything about my journey and more importantly it’s none of their business.
Ditto to all of that. I don’t mention my tonsillectomy to anyone unless it’s relevant, so why should I mention something as intimate as this? It’s different if another trans guy is looking for info and asks about surgeon recommendations or something, but in my everyday life, no one needs to know what’s going on in that area unless I deem it important and necessary to mention.
I used to try and educate people who’d ask about “the” surgery. “Are you going to have THE surgery?” “Have you had THE surgery?” Now I just smile and say, “There’s no such thing as ‘the’ surgery, it’s really a series of procedures”, and leave it at that. They don’t need to know any more – not about me.
Why is it that so many people–the majority of whom will never be in a position where it will even matter what I have beneath my skirt–are so fascinated with knowing? Will they relate to me differently if I have a vagina than if I have a penis? Quite frankly, if my genitals mean more to them than I do, I’d rather not have them as friends anyway.
Or maybe it’s just the novelty: we’re still barely visible in society, but more and more of us are coming out. Perhaps once we achieve the same visibility as gays and lesbians, we won’t have to deal with these privacy-violating questions anymore.
What a messed up issue. The thoughts running through my head about gender, genitals, sex, identity, procreation makes this difficult to comment on.
I thought to myself, I don’t see anyone else in society being identified by their genitals or labeled by their “op” status. Then it hit me, yes we do. That is what is behind the binary statuses of male and female. It is what society has done to identify our ability to procreate. It is all about our reproductive ability. You are female (egg). You are male (sperm).
We are transgendered, meaning we have confused that whole issue. Well, if you are switching sides, then have you changed the equipment yet, so I can reclassify you in my mind. The whole point becomes mute, because as soon as we have the appropriate surgeries, we all become sterile.
So, I guess when we are labeled with “op” words, what they are really asking is, do you have eggs, sperm or are you sterile? The male/female label no longer works properly for egg/sperm identification.
I think from now on, when asked about my “op” status I am going to respond with “Mute point” and leave them hanging. But, if I find them interesting, I am going to say “At the very least, it is going to cost you dinner and a movie to find out.”
LOL! I love it. I’m going to have to use that line now … dinner and a movie … crack me up.
I had a friend tell me he could only classify people by their genitals, and that if he lost his penis, he’d consider himself a woman. Except… I’m sure most people he knows, he HASN’T seen their genitals. This tells me that he probably guesses their genital configuration based on whichever gender he’s assigned to them in his mind.
“…and that if he lost his penis, he’d consider himself a woman.”
It always gets me how these people think that “men have penises and women DON’T have penises.” As opposed to “men have penises and women have vaginas.” It’s like they are cissexists who can’t even get cissexism right…
I think they’re getting it exactly right, in the sense that it fits with the rest of how they think: in their axioms, the default human being is a cisgendered man. Women are not-men or defective men. If they look on women as defective men, it makes sense that they’ll classify other men they consider defective as women.
Doesn’t make much sense in another way.
Wether a trans woman has had surgery or not, they consider her “a dude”. If she’s very attractive, they consider her ” a dude that could make them gay”, but still, “a dude”.
It seems to be tied to resentment about being considered socially worth protecting, more pure, etc – and considering someone “not born into it” (read: assigned that sex at birth) as usurping that assumption of purity, moral superiority etc.
It probably ties into homophobia for some, but it’s far from the whole story.
Ironically, for anti-trans radfems, it ties into misandry AND misogyny.
OK, Much love to you all, but my feeling is that we need to treat them like children who have questions about ‘how come the sky is blue.’
I do go into explanation, but first I let them know why I don’t mind talking about it, but why they should consider the privacy of those type questions and not assume everyone will.
The way I see it is that all this is so beyond grasping for non-trans people. It hasn’t been very long since people have had the opportunity to consider people who are gay ‘human’, let alone that trans persons are anything other than freaks. Especially with such variety popping up so quickly (shoot, I myself can barely keep up with it at 44yo and 14 yrs post ‘discovery’). They’re still back at square one.
That’s HUGELY important for us to remember, I feel. Sex and gender identity are so core to our being that you’re asking people to consider something that they quite possibly could never get their mind around. They’re only JUST getting to accept that a different sexual orientation (GLB, don’t even go to polyamory or married-men-who-have-sex-with-men or god-forbid bdsm) would be ‘ok’.
Even some people who are cisgender gay have little clue about transfolks lives. I can’t tell you how many lesbians considered me a drag king and ‘lesbian’ because I happen to partner with a cisgender woman. They can’t even grasp the fact that I’m sexually attracted to males, but do better in relationships with females, so we work out an open relationship. By that point, I’ve completely f**ked their minds up.
Even my WIFE (formerly ‘lesbian’ and still considers herself ‘lesbian’ with no disrespect to me, but for the community aspect) of 13 years can’t keep the difference between sex and gender clear in her mind! She can’t even think about me as ‘female’ despite seeing my female formed naked genitals in it’s ultimate intimate detail.
Even I had inappropriate questions when I found out I could do this (less than 15 years ago). Why is it such a stretch to accept that non-trans people new to this would have questions. How could they not temporarily dissociate themselves? We’re only human.
To be honest, I find myself doing it in my own head (when I first met someone who is deaf or blind or in a chair or whatever might have still been new to my experience at the time), and I think I’m fairly open-minded and considerate. Not everyone can get it together so quick as to remember to be politically correct or aware enough to think considerately. Even when they get the theory, it’s still not like meeting someone in person.
I have reconnected with some of my best friends from 15 years ago, with whom I lost touch. While they’re fine and happy for me with the initial email or letter, they’re shocked when they see the pictures or hear my voice on the phone, let alone when they first see me in person. Two of them spent HOURS crying and being consoled by their loved ones. One of those two people I just mentioned, still has a hard time five years later getting used to ‘me’ now. And SHE’S the one who saved me from getting my ass kicked in HS for wearing boys clothes!
I’m telling you, this rocks people’s perceptions of the world around them SOOOO much, they can’t think right.
I say give them a break right now. Be fair to where they’re at.
If it was 10-15 years from now, I’ll change my mind. But as trans people, we engulf our lives so deeply into our tiny community and defending ourselves to ourselves and people close to us, that we tend to forget that 98% of our surrounding human beings are nearly unaware we even exist. (Especially those of us from small midwestern towns)
The newest examples the general public have are pregnant men on Oprah and Chaz Bono in tabloids. And those are still so far beyond their face-to-face daily life experiences that is still all ‘freaky’ beyond comprehension.
That’s all I have to say about that. LOL!
“I say give them a break right now. Be fair to where they’re at.”
I understand that you are willing to educate, but its not our job to do anything but live authentically.
“dinner and a movie…” I’m going to use that next time, Pascal.
Interesting topic! I personally do not reveal anything about whether I’ve had any surgery or not unless the topic comes up.
That said, I see this whole thing about whether people had surgeries or not and how people ask is something not new to me. Be a disabled or blind person and you get these kinds of invasive questions all the time. “Oh, what happened to your eyes?” “Oh, how much can you see?” etc.
I think most people ask these things because they are uncomfortable and need to say something. And some are just plain curious. This is after eons of disabled and blind people being out in public on busses and in other public places especially after the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act. The envirnment HAD to become user friendly to us. Before that – at least over 60 years ago, disabled and blind people stayed at home and “closeted” so to speak. Now we are out and about and getting all kinds of weird reactions to our presence.
Same thing for transpeople. We are just really becom ing visible out and about where cisgender folks can see us. they act the same way – unless they are bashing us! I’d rather dialog and questions over bashing any day. this way, people will actually have the opportunity to see us as humans and not that much different from them.
So, it gets interesting to be both blind AND trans! I do feel it perfectly fine if you respond to inquiring minds that certain things are off limits for discussion unless YOU want to discuss thing with that person.
“I do feel it perfectly fine if you respond to inquiring minds that certain things are off limits for discussion unless YOU want to discuss thing with that person.”
I like that thought, and I think it’s a reasonable compromise. People who don’t want to talk about it shouldn’t have to. And people who do, should have the courtesy to first point out that the question is in fact a highly invasive one for many of us.
For me, I had someone ask me “pre or post op” in a mass email of completely unrelated topic. So I replied back and instead of answering, I asked the same of him.
Now, if someone’s not being a douchebag about it, I’m far more likely to get into education mode and explain the science behind everything.
What I really like about this post is that it allows space for everyone to have their own experience (including those who identify with the operation journey) while also critiquing the dialogue surrounding it within our community. I also like the way you treat the “op” conversation as problematic, but are still able to express that you are comfortable with yourself.
Your post really spoke to me this week because I just wrote a guest blog for Original Plumbing on a similar subject:
http://www.originalplumbing.com/2011/04/25/nickblog-proud-of-my-junk/
Great post!
I do think that the idea of being pre, post or non “op” presumes that there is ONE “op,” and to me, it’s analogous to the DONE question (oh, are you DONE transitioning?/when are you DONE?) that demonstrates ignorance about the trans experience & the idea that you fully cross from one side of the binary to the other and then you are done. Presto.
The timeline of transition is baffling from the perspective of someone new to concepts of gender identity. No, you’re never done. Trans is – in some ways – best understood as a chronic condition. When did you become the transitioned sex? Well, technically, you always WERE. So it was in the past. Transition presumes you went from point A to point B, yet, you always had the identity of point B, not of point A….so huh? It’s confusing and people want “guideposts” to the extent they want to keep A and B separate. Knowing only of “having a sex change” as a THING and as an OPERATIVE one, you wind up with the “op” perspective. I agree that we’re far past the point that we should be encouraging the use of this faulty perspective.
I also agree that trans is not unique in this regard. People feel entitled to information about other people’s bodies and medical conditions whenever there is a departure from the “typical” experience. People with visible disabilities experience this all the time. People with invisible disabilities suffer from failure to meet expectations of what able-bodied people act like/can do and can be forced or pressured to disclose about medical conditions or their bodies by “well-meaning” interlopers who lack proper boundaries. People who are chronically ill must listen to misguided “advice” and questioning of how they care for themselves all the time.
And, last, your comments about being forced to introduce yourself as a dickless trans man are dead-on. Lance Armstrong is introduced as a 7 time Tour de France winner or as a cancer survivor – or even by his detractors as perhaps the most sophisticated doper in the history of sport. He is NOT introduced nor expected to identify himself as a one-balled cylist.
Thank you for this post!
Great post, Matt! Completely agree, and I will definitely be sharing this with cis friends of mine to hopefully help them understand why the “op” focus is troublesome.
Not using the “op” word as a qualifier sounds reasonable to me, since “pre/post op” refers to what genitals you have, and this should usually be nobody’s business.
Curiously, as a non-binary trans I have never considered my trans status in an “op” perspective, because THAT “op” option has never been of interest to me. So when others do reference the “op” I feel alienated, especially when this happens inside the trans community.
It would make more sense to frame it in terms of pre/post transition, because your transition status can be orthogonal to your surgeries – even though this is usually a very fuzzy area as well.
I feel like the focus on genital operations is a side effect of the focus of the rest of the world on treating trans* women as objects of heterosexual masculine desire. If the definition of “woman” is (as society seems to believe sometimes) “someone straight, privileged men want to have sex with”, then op status becomes central to womanhood.
As a trans guy I have found that the question comes up far less often than it does for my female friends, and when it does is usually in situations, such as panels, where there are a group of us of a variety of genders.
On a similar note, I noticed yesterday that the “Gender Play” category on Good Vibrations only consisted of strap ons. I was kind of disappointed at the limited imagination involved in gender-bending sex toys there.
I think you’ve hit the nail on the head here, so to speak.
I’m a cissexual genderqueer femme. Generally people don’t get my entire gender identity; I’m comfortable with female pronouns so they usually assume I’m female. If I tell them I don’t identify that way, there’s usually a weird look on their faces, that says very clearly “How can you not identify that way if you were born with the plumbing that straight men want to have sex with?” Which shows an interesting assumption — that I was born with the “correct plumbing” in the first place.
If people aren’t asking about your genitalia then they’re making assumptions.
For myself, the only time I become curious about another person’s genitalia is when I think I’d like to have sex with that person. Even then it’s not discussed until we’re actually about to have sex, and it’s more logistics than anything else (I’m very fat, so not all positions are possible with smaller than 8-inches or tremendous flexibility on my partner’s side). Outside of sexual contact, other people’s genitalia are not my business.
Excellent post.
I never really understood what business it was of anyone else’s what we have under our clothes, or why it was necessary to meet someone else’s expectations to be worthy of being called a human being.
I loved your post, Matt! It has the same charm as “Just add hormones”, and I love that book!
Whenever I get a question about op-status or my genitals. I use one or a combination of several of these:
1. I explain the different surgeries.
2. I tell the funny story about a fourteen year old boy who asked me how big my dick would be from T. He had been warned by his teacher that they were only to ask questions they would be comfortable to answer themselves. So I reminded him, and then asked how big his would be. He blushed like I’ve never seen anyone blush.
3. If I feel bitter that day, I explain about the Norwegian stupidity, the monopoly and how I was turned down for treatment.
I also use to joke about how I once thought all women secretly wanted to be men. And I am honest about the fact that I still can’t imagine how it is to be a woman (who does not want to be a man) or to want to be a woman. The fact that I don’t understand a situation does not stop me from respecting people in those situations.
After all (or just some) of this, people usually feel a bit blown away and thank me for explaining things. I’ve had strangers cry in front of me in public (yes, it did make me a little uncomfortable). Some are ready to march up to the monopol hospital and teach them a lesson then and there. These situations are very valuable to me, as I otherwise have a tendency to be arrogant, and they teach me that most people are nice, they just need to be educated and meet a trans person face to face.
It always amazes me how many people think things like that are their business. It’s the same way they think it’s perfectly OK to ask gay people about their sex lives.
My wife provided me a response for when people ask such invasive questions. Just look at them directly and ask, “Whatever possessed you to ask such a question?”. They should be so embarrassed they asked such a rude, invasive question and anybody with a sense of decency will drop it.
Another issue with the whole “op-question” thing, within the trans community, is that it implies MTF-normativity. As you say, I have never heard any transguy referring to top surgery when they say they’re post-op.
Seriously, even when genitals DOES matter (like discussing legal rights defined by genital status, or access to trans care to people who don’t conform to those 50′s ideals), the terminology doesn’t apply to most FTMs.
When trans talibans (at least in Sweden) talk about “non-ops”, they usually imply things like non-ops being not devoted enough to make “real” change, not suffering enough to “prove” whatever you have to prove according to them, not being brave enough, etc.
I don’t need to prove anything to them, but it makes me mad that they actually get away with that vocabulary. What they’re saying is that they don’t count top surgery as “real” surgery. And since they count “non-ops” as something like ‘evil transvestites who cannot think of anything better than to torture true transsexuals by wasting precious appointments at gender clinics’, they also imply that virtually all transmen can’t be “real” transsexuals – and thus shouldn’t be allowed to have any trans care at all.
I’m a trans guy and I think of myself as post-op. For myself, I had top surgery and that was the only surgery I wanted. I actually know quite a few guys who think of themselves as “post-op”, even though none of them have had any genital surgeries. We do exist lol
Well said, Mikey.
Great discussion. This is obviously a topic that people feel strongly about, one way or the other. Thanks for all your input and thoughts. I love seeing what everybody thinks about all this stuff.
The trans community – trans women in particular, are the only folks I know who will immediately define themselves by their op status.
This says a LOT about them.. it also says a lot about society and how the transsexual culture has developed to get us to this point.
Ick! Not a part of it. Thanks for this post!
Wow. This is so different from my own experience! I have never met a trans person who described themselves as pre-op or post-op or non-op upon introduction. Nor do I feel any need to describe myself as such. I mean, if it comes up in discussion, hurrah, I’ll share where I’m at if I am up to that discussion. If not, people don’t have a right to know.
The only legitimate use I would consider for claiming certain ‘op’ status (and the reason that I thought it was introduced) is as a means of resistance against the typical trans narrative (emphasising that there is not one single route, and that we are not defined by our operative status). The way it’s become a part of the narrative in itself means it has far outlived its usefulness.
Why should the status of my genitals matter to ANYONE other than myself. Actually, for whatever reason, no one has ever asked me about my “status” which is, as far as I am concerned, a really good thing. I am “just” Cheryl and I like it this way because in the end I am just me, a person who I am learning to like and love more everyday.
Good for you, girlfriend! You rock!
I’ll show you mine if you show me your’s?
Surgery? Absolutely. Quad bypass 6 years ago, and I’m doing great, thanks for asking!
Good answers! Another option, if the person asking the question is male:
“Are you circumcised?”
I sometimes have the feeling that surgery is what society expects us to pay to be allowed to transition. Several countries demand sterilization for a legal change.
Even some lesbian and gay events have made bottom surgery a demand. People are just creeped out by the idea of mixed bodies.
I couldn’t say it betterli:
http://hormonaltransrex.tumblr.com/post/4601592218/i-found-your-tumblr-today-you-are-adorable-also-a
Thanks again for all the great discussion. Being trans definitely seems to make our bodies public property. I will always talk about my body during educational presentations (unless I’m asked not to), but I won’t use my surgical status as an adjective – unless I miraculously start looking younger. Then I’ll say I’m post-Botox.
This all needs to be said more often and asked about far less. While I haven’t ever introduced myself as a post-op trans man, I have had way too many people ask me if I am pre, post or even non-op and almost always there is no reason it should be a topic of conversation. If it’s another trans person that want to specifically talk about the surgeries that’s one thing but for most people including other trans people it seems that they want to know to figure out what box i should really be in.
I’ve never considered describing myself in terms of surgery. Honestly I’m of the opinion if it ain’t broke don’t fix it….my bits work just fine and the last thing I need is for a surgeon to sneeze during surgery….. then it wouldn’t matter at all!
What’s in (or not in) my pants has never made me feel any less of a man and since people don’t grope each other when saying hello the only physical trait I felt betrayed my true identity was my breasts. Most of the time (before T) I was seen as the gender I presented. After surgery, I won’t feel like my body is contradicting itself but I don’t consider this surgery any different than correcting a hare lip or club foot.
People make assumptions about what is in your pants every day based on what they see. Nine times out of ten nobody knows any different (or cares) unless you choose to tell them you’re trans. My problem with that is after disclosing my trans status I’m no longer seen as a real man so I keep my mouth shut and let people see what they want.
Frankly, I use the word post-op Trans woman on personal dating sites because I think anatomy is very important when you are dating someone with the ultimate intention of it becoming sexual and romantic. I do not want someone feeling decieved so I’m always honest about making sure that they know that I’m Trans from the get go. I also do not want to attract someone who has a particular attraction to a “chick with a dick”. I’m attracted to a man with a penis. If he doesn’t have one then I’d like to know that as well. I think this is very pertinent information when dating; however, it is not important in other circumstances other than with a physician and seems inappropriate to even bring it up.
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours (first)! Don’t look at my boobs! and PLEAZE stop staring at my crotch. Do I stare at yours? NO!
Uppp here…I’m up here past the boobs yes keep going THERE U R! Yes I am a human being please do measure my humanity by whether I have a inny or outty. Or how long. Or how deep.
Thank you,
Non of you fuzzing bizness,
kelli anne Busey
Okay, I completely understand and agree that we are not defined by a surgery and it really isn’t most people’s business on a daily business if we are “pre, non or post”…but to play the role I often times play…there are times it does become a valid question. I have been on panels of discussion about transgender topics and there are times it MAY be important to discuss from the perspective of the three as in reality there are three different perspectives in many ways. There would be reasons in a dating situation where the other person would have the right to ask to name another. My point is that like all things, there is a time and a place. Generally, it is never the business of anyone else and personally. Great article!
GREAT article and wonderful, insightful, honest discussion! Why indeed is it any one else’s need to know unless they intend to be your intimate partner? In fact, quite frequently when asked that question when I’m teaching a class on Transgender — or on a panel — I will typically ask the person who just asked me if I’ve “had the surgery” — Why do you wanna fuck me?
Not only does it usually provoke laughter from the rest of the audience, but it provides me with the opportunity to educate everyone in attendance that it really is no one’s business what is or isn’t in my panties. Again, more chuckles are forthcoming… and a perfect teaching opportunity has not been missed.
I truely love the “It’s gonna cost you a dinner and a movie to get the answer to that question.” and will probably switch to that instead of my rather blunt reaction — unless that’s what I want to do at the time.
The only time I think it’s important is if someone is offering advice or opinions about surgeries. I’ve heard some non-op people make (grossly incorrect and even disrespectful) statements about SRS which they haven’t experienced and clearly had feelings about which have colored their views. Yes, then I want to know where they are on those issues. Other than that, it’s no one’s biz.
Unfortunately, whether one has had surgery or not is now being used by some to define a caste system within the Trans Community. I find that rephrehensible when far deeper issues such as employment, health care, homelessness, immigration, identity documents, military service and yes, public accomodations far outweigh whether a woman has a penis or a man has a vagina.