It's My Pronoun (and I'll Cry if I Want to)

It's a reference to a Leslie Gore song. There is an obsession with owning pronouns, an honorific attempt at showing respect for the trans/gender-fluid/two-spirit/___ communities and cultures. I'm a cis-male who presents in pants, slacks, trousers and doesn't own a kilt. I wear robes and I have one stretch-band midi skirt that I had inherited from a dearly departed friend.
Since most of my trans or gender-fluid contact has been face to face (inter-)action, there has seldom been need for the pronoun. Or so I thought. I work in a federal agency that provides healthcare to a predominantly male population. When I call the person who is waiting, I will use the title "Mr". When I note that the person is in transition or not presenting as a male, I will just use the last name. However, I am not allowed to address the person by first name and I am then stuck with the question of whether or not the person want to be spoken to with a "ma'am" or a "sir".
This is a new problem for a new era. Sex change operations were not an option when I was coming up. Christine Jorgensen - Wikipedia The Christine Jorgensen story was a sensation in the 1950s for its time. I cannot imagine how troubled that person must have been. But, that is why I don't work in the area of psychology.