Bathrooms are supposed to be simple. You walk in, you take care of what you need to do, and you leave. Yet for transgender people, the act of using a public restroom can feel like stepping into a minefield. Every choice carries tension. The men’s room may feel unsafe or invalidating. The women’s room may feel intimidating, a place where you are scrutinized. Even the so-called solution of gender-neutral bathrooms is more complicated than many people realize.
As a transgender woman who has recently returned to the gym, I feel this dilemma every week. My gym has men’s and women’s locker rooms, but no third option. I do not feel comfortable enough in my appearance to confidently step into the women’s changing area. At the same time, my body and my identity no longer belong in the men’s locker room. I avoid both. I arrive already dressed and leave without showering, trading convenience for safety. It works, but it is also a constant reminder of how public restrooms can become battlegrounds for transgender people.
I also bring another perspective to this problem. With a degree in architecture and a career as a construction project manager, I know the codes, budgets, and logistical hurdles that shape buildings. When people casually suggest adding gender-neutral bathrooms everywhere, I cannot help but picture the floor plans, the plumbing lines, and the cost estimates. The truth is that the problem is not only cultural but also infrastructural. Solving it requires more than simply changing the sign on a door.
Living Between Two Doors
Every transgender person I know has a bathroom story. Some describe the fear of confrontation when walking into the restroom that matches their gender. Others talk about stares, whispers, or outright harassment. For many, the response is avoidance. We learn to map our days around where safe restrooms might exist or to hold it until we can get home.
For me, the gym illustrates the impossible choice. Walking into the men’s room would make me feel unsafe. I have breasts and curves now, and I would stand out in ways that would feel threatening. The women’s room, on the other hand, feels just as risky because I am still working on my confidence. I know I belong there, but that doesn’t erase the fear of being confronted or told otherwise. So I settle on a third option, which is to not use either. I plan around it, show up already changed, and rush out when I am done. It is functional but not ideal. It is surviving rather than belonging.
Why Gender-Neutral Bathrooms Sound Ideal
The idea of gender-neutral bathrooms has an obvious appeal. In theory, they remove the decision entirely. You walk in, do what you need, and leave without worrying about whether someone thinks you belong there. For transgender and nonbinary people, the relief of not having to choose between two doors can be enormous. Beyond that, advocates often point out that gender-neutral restrooms also serve other groups. Parents with children, caregivers for people with disabilities, and anyone uncomfortable with rigid divisions all benefit. On the surface, it seems like the inclusive answer.
Politically, it is also an easy talking point. “Let’s just build gender-neutral bathrooms, and the problem goes away.” But the reality is much more complicated once you step out of theory and into the physical spaces we all occupy.
The Reality of Building Codes and Construction
This is where my professional life collides with my personal one. In construction, bathrooms are not just about signs on doors. They are governed by a dense web of plumbing codes, building codes, and accessibility requirements. Current codes almost everywhere in the United States require separate facilities for men and women. Those codes do not simply ask for restrooms; they dictate the number of fixtures based on the occupancy of the building. To add a third option is not just a matter of replacing a sign. It means redesigning how fixtures are counted and how space is allocated.
Then there are ADA requirements. Every facility must already provide accessible restrooms. Gender-neutral options would still need to meet those standards, which adds complexity. And space, in buildings, is money. Every square foot used for a new restroom is space that cannot be rented, sold, or used for something else. In gyms, restaurants, or office towers where floor space is valuable, this matters.
Retrofitting older buildings is even harder. Plumbing lines are fixed. To create an entirely new bathroom usually means cutting into concrete slabs, rerouting drains and water supply, and often shutting down operations for weeks or months. Costs can easily climb into six figures. Expecting every building owner to take that on simply is not realistic.
So while gender-neutral bathrooms sound like a universal fix, the logistical and financial obstacles are significant. Codes would need to be rewritten, budgets would need to expand, and many existing facilities would be unable or unwilling to comply.
Why Gender-Neutral Bathrooms Do Not Always Help
Even if we could overcome the construction hurdles, gender-neutral bathrooms do not always work the way people hope. In some cases, they actually make trans people more visible targets. When only one bathroom in a building is labeled “gender-neutral,” the message becomes that this is the restroom for people who do not belong in the others. Walking into that space can feel like stepping under a spotlight. It marks you as different, which can lead to more harassment rather than less.
There is also the perception issue. Some cisgender people see gender-neutral bathrooms as special treatment or political correctness gone too far. That resentment can fuel hostility, and the people most likely to face the brunt of that are the trans and nonbinary individuals using the facilities. A sign on a door does not erase prejudice. Safety does not automatically come with new architecture.
And beyond bathrooms, the problem extends to locker rooms. Even if a building has gender-neutral restrooms, gyms and pools still need changing and showering areas. For trans people, these spaces are often even more stressful because of the vulnerability they require. Privacy stalls, private showers, or redesigned layouts would help, but those solutions also face the same code and cost challenges as bathrooms.
Safety, Privacy, and Protecting Everyone in Public Spaces
Any discussion about bathrooms and locker rooms inevitably raises the issue of safety. Some people worry that opening women’s facilities to transgender women might give men with bad intentions an excuse to exploit those policies. There have been rare cases where individuals falsely claimed a transgender identity to gain access to women’s spaces for reasons that were manipulative or harmful. Those incidents are real, and they spark fear. But it is important to understand them for what they are: acts of deception by individuals who were never part of the transgender community in the first place.
The vast majority of transgender people use public facilities for the same reason as anyone else: to meet a basic human need in safety and dignity. The presence of transgender women in women’s spaces does not increase risk, and research supports that. What does create risk is when predators exploit any loophole they can find, regardless of whether bathrooms are gender-neutral, men’s, or women’s.
The challenge for policymakers and architects alike is to design spaces that protect everyone. Privacy features like full-height stalls, private shower cubicles, and lockable single-user restrooms reduce vulnerability without singling anyone out. These measures protect cisgender women, transgender women, and anyone else who feels exposed in shared facilities. Safety is not about excluding trans people. It is about creating environments where predatory behavior is harder for anyone to attempt.
When the conversation focuses only on trans people as a supposed threat, it not only stigmatizes an already vulnerable group, but it also distracts from real solutions. Better design, clearer policies, and a culture of respect are far more effective at protecting women than scapegoating transgender individuals who are themselves just trying to live their lives.
The Deeper Cultural Problem
At its core, the bathroom problem is not just about infrastructure. It is about culture. Transgender people are constantly policed in public. Strangers feel entitled to decide whether you belong in the men’s or women’s restroom. For trans women, that often means being accused of being a man in the women’s room. For trans men, it can mean being told to leave the men’s room because someone misgenders them. For nonbinary people, there is often no recognition at all.
Gender-neutral bathrooms were supposed to bypass this policing, but they cannot undo prejudice on their own. Until society shifts its understanding of gender and respects trans identities, restrooms will continue to be fraught spaces.
What Could Work Instead
If mandating gender-neutral bathrooms everywhere is not practical, what might help? In new construction, more single-user restrooms could make a huge difference. A lockable, private restroom works for everyone: transgender people, parents with children, caregivers, and anyone who prefers privacy. These kinds of facilities are not only inclusive but also less complicated to design within existing codes.
Building codes themselves could also be updated to allow gender-neutral multi-stall restrooms as an accepted alternative to gendered ones. Some states and municipalities are already experimenting with this approach. Incentives could be offered for retrofitting restrooms during scheduled renovations rather than forcing owners to overhaul facilities overnight. Incremental progress is far more realistic than sweeping mandates.
None of this will work without education and cultural change. Staff training, inclusive signage, and public messaging can make a big difference in how safe people feel in restrooms. Locker rooms, in particular, need special attention. Private changing stalls and shower cubicles can go a long way toward making gyms and pools accessible without fear. These are practical steps that acknowledge both the limits of infrastructure and the dignity of the people who use it.
Returning to the Gym
When I return to my gym, I still face the same choices. I walk past the locker rooms and head straight to the workout floor. I tell myself I am there to exercise, not to worry about bathrooms, but the truth lingers. The system does not fit me. I adapt, but I do not belong.
My training in architecture tells me why it is so complicated. My life as a transgender woman tells me why it matters so much. I know buildings cannot change overnight. I know costs and codes will always shape what gets built. But I also know that dignity should matter just as much as plumbing lines. Bathrooms are not simply about fixtures and square footage. They are about belonging. Until society embraces that idea, transgender people will keep facing the same daily compromises I do.
The Bottom Line
The bathroom debate is often reduced to signage, as if the words on a door are the entire problem. The truth is more complicated. Bathrooms are about safety, dignity, infrastructure, and culture. Gender-neutral bathrooms help in some cases, but they are not the silver bullet many imagine. For transgender individuals, bathrooms remain a place of tension. The solution will not come from architecture alone. It will come from a broader commitment to respect, inclusion, and human dignity.
Until then, many of us will continue to work around the system. We will arrive at the gym already dressed. We will leave sweaty without showering. We will map out our days around safe bathrooms. And we will carry the quiet, exhausting weight of a problem most people never even have to think about.
