Savita Naidu loves nothing more than flicking through old family photographs. But these are more than just memories of a happy childhood with his identical twin sister, Suchita.
For in these pictures, Savita, now 21, can pinpoint the exact moment when he – born a biological woman – decided he wanted to become a man.
The images of smiling, podgy-faced babies in pink babygros, their shiny dark hair in matching pigtails, start showing differences between the pair as early as toddlerhood.
One photograph is especially poignant. ‘It was our third birthday,’ says Savita, who goes by the name ‘Sav’.
‘We each had our own cake. Mine had bright green frosting, with characters from the film Madagascar on it.
‘Suchita’s was a pink princess cake. She’s wearing a dress and I’m in a T-shirt and trousers. I didn’t care about gender roles back then – I was only three – but, looking back, that picture says so much about what was to come.’
While his sister was into Barbie, make-up and fashion, Sav preferred action figures, superheroes and cars. His favourite colour was blue; Suchita’s was pink.
Suchita Naidu who is a Miss England competitor, and her brother Savita Naidu who is trans and identifies as male
Suchita (left) & Savita (right) Naidu when they were younger. While his sister was into Barbie, make-up and fashion, Sav preferred action figures, superheroes and cars. His favourite colour was blue; Suchita’s was pink
Their little girl was, as his parents put it back then, a typical ‘tomboy’.
But fast-forward 18 years and Savita, who now uses the pronouns ‘he/him’ and ‘they/them’ rather than ‘she/her’, identifies as male and is on the waiting list for a gender identity clinic to start the transition to becoming a man.
According to the latest census data, there are around 250,000 transgender people in the UK – but what makes Sav’s story so remarkable is the fact that he was born an identical twin.
And Suchita, who shares every scrap of his DNA and came from the same egg, has gone down a very different path.
While Sav has cut his hair short and wears baggy clothes, she is ultra-feminine, tottering around in heels and short, tight dresses that hug her petite figure.
Earlier this month, Suchita was a finalist in the ‘make-up-free’ heat of Miss England, earning herself a coveted place in the national finals of the beauty contest.
By becoming a beauty queen, she says, she wants to ‘a platform to talk about people who are marginalised and discriminated against’ – among them, her sibling.
As children of deeply traditional Malayasian immigrants, who came to Britain 23 years ago, the twins have certainly made unorthodox life choices. But Sav and Suchita say their parents couldn’t be prouder of what they have achieved.
In fact, to everyone’s surprise, the revelations of the past few years have made them – and their whole family – closer than ever.
Earlier this month, Suchita (right) was a finalist in the ‘make-up-free’ heat of Miss England, earning herself a coveted place in the national finals of the beauty contest
Savita, who now uses the pronouns ‘he/him’ and ‘they/them’ rather than ‘she/her’, identifies as male and is on the waiting list for a gender identity clinic to start the transition to becoming a man
‘Our parents are incredibly liberal,’ says Suchita.
‘We have really open, honest chats with them. They value intellect and emotional intelligence above everything.’
Born in Hampstead, North London, in 2002, Suchita and Savita were the youngest of four daughters for Saroja, a maths teacher, and Sree, a barrister. Their parents met at university and moved to the UK in 2000 when Sree got a job with the energy company, Shell. Five years later, the family returned to Malaysia, where they stayed until 2012.
As children, Sav says, he and his twin were incredibly close – much more so than with their elder sisters, who are now 24 and 26.
‘One of my first memories is of Suchita climbing into my crib,’ he says. ‘Our parents used to find us on the landing in the middle of the night, knocking on their door. Suchita was the mischievous one – she used to help me climb out.’
They shared classes at school until they were six. ‘The morning they told us we were being separated, we cried and cried,’ says Suchita. ‘Our parents had to come into assembly to hold our hands. We couldn’t bear to be apart.’
Growing up in Malaysia, where homosexuality and cross-dressing are imprisonable offences, could have been harrowing for young Savita, who says he was aware of having feelings for girls, not boys, by the age of eight. ‘Although there is a lot of institutionalised homophobia, society there is actually very liberal,’ he insists. ‘You can dress how you want and do what you want.’
Suchita adds: ‘We have a massive family there – our mum is the youngest of nine – and everyone is very loving and kind. There’s no active homophobic sentiment. It’s rooted in culture and tradition: they just don’t talk about sexuality at all.’
Sav (left) says, he and his twin were incredibly close growing up – much more so than with their elder sisters
Born in Hampstead, North London, in 2002, Suchita and Savita were the youngest of four daughters
Relatives often referred to Sav as ‘boyish’. Not wanting to upset anyone, he says it was easier to embrace the label than address the deeper feelings he was experiencing. ‘My parents had three other girls so they weren’t bothered by me not being girly,’ he adds. ‘My dad loved buying me football gear and cars. It was a nice change for him.’
It’s often said that twins have a special intuition, and Suchita felt something was different about Savita from the age of five. Whenever they played weddings, he would be the groom.
‘I remember having this feeling deep inside me that him being a girl didn’t seem right,’ Suchita admits. ‘I thought: my twin sister is not a girl. But I didn’t say anything. I just started thinking of Sav as my brother – that’s the role he has always played.’
The family returned to the UK when the twins were ten and, after passing the 11-plus, they started at Watford Grammar School for Girls in Hertfordshire.
The uniform posed an immediate problem for Sav. ‘Our dad really wanted us to look the part,’ he recalls. ‘I wore a skirt for two weeks; then I couldn’t take it any more and switched to trousers.’
It was at school that he first heard the word ‘lesbian’ and realised it described how he felt.
Sex education in class only went so far; instead, he turned to social media, where he found solace in LGBTQ+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans, Queer and Questioning) forums and Instagram posts that resonated with his emotions.
On a school trip in 2016, aged 13, he came out as gay to his sister.
Suchita (right) and Savita (left) grew up as biological sisters but have now been brother and sister for the past three years after Savita transitioned to a male
‘I cried when Savita told me he was gay,’ Suchita admits.
‘It wasn’t that I was unhappy – it had been obvious to me – but I was scared because we were so young and we didn’t know what our parents’ or community’s reaction would be.’
Sav puts his arm around his sister, whose eyes brim with tears at the memory. ‘She worries about me. But I can handle myself.’ His sexuality became an open secret among classmates, though his parents still had no idea.
From the outside, the twins were happy, intelligent teenagers, well-liked by their teachers, charity volunteers in their community and members of the Army Cadets.
But as time went by, Sav began to admit that he wasn’t happy in his body. In 2017, he opened up to a close friend. ‘I told her I felt I wasn’t a girl,’ he explains. ‘She said: ‘That’s fine. Do you want to pick a new name?’ I didn’t, because I like my name – but the fact that first response had been so positive kept me going for many years. I knew it was going to be OK.’
It was another two years before he told one group of friends, then some more – including Suchita, whose laid-back response was ‘Great, so you’re a man now’ – and not until summer 2020 that he decided to cut off his long hair.
For almost 18 years, the twins’ glossy, dark locks had been their trademark, and Sav says losing it felt like a major leap towards becoming trans.
‘It’s a real thing with transgender men – we have a huge attachment to our hair; it’s like the last bit of femininity,’ he explains.
‘Mine used to be down to my waist – I was really worried about what I’d look like without it.
‘My hair was a mask. As soon as I cut it, everyone would know the image I was trying to put across.’
From the outside, the twins were happy, intelligent teenagers, well-liked by their teachers, charity volunteers in their community and members of the Army Cadets
Suchita (left) and Savita (right) when they were younger
He went to a local hairdresser, showed her a photograph of a man with short, wavy hair – and took the plunge. ‘It was liberating,’ he says. ‘It felt really good.’
With the haircut came another big step: telling his parents.
First, Sav decided to tell his mum and dad he was gay, as despite being ‘out’ for five years, and having girlfriends, he had never spoken to them about it.
‘My dad has been exposed to life outside Malaysia: he studied in London, Oxford and Paris, but Mum was more sheltered,’ he explains. ‘I knew I had to ease her into the idea of me being trans.’
And so in December 2020 he gathered the whole family in the living room. ‘I remember my boyfriend at the time was banished upstairs,’ laughs Suchita.
‘Although Sav had never told our parents, they had some idea. When they asked about his love life, he’d tell them not to worry. So this was more of a confirmation.’
Sitting in front of his parents and three sisters, Sav broke the news.
The pair are very close and share a bedroom in their parents’ home in Watford, something Sav, a third-year Philosophy, Politics and Economics student at University College London, says makes financial sense
To date, Sav hasn’t taken any physical or medical steps towards becoming a man: his trans journey has been social and emotional
‘My dad hugged me,’ he recalls. ‘He said: ‘We will always love you, no matter what.’ Mum was more resigned. Not in a bad way – she was very accepting – but there was an air of worry.’
Suchita explains: ‘I guess grief is the best way to describe it. She was grieving the life she thought you would have, and the pain that you were going through, or had been through.
‘And she knew she had this huge, very traditional family that she would have to tell, and she was worried about how to do that and stand up for her child.’
Over time, conversations were had, questions answered and bridges built. ‘Mum is so proud of Sav now,’ Suchita continues. ‘She isn’t ashamed to tell anyone. And if they want to judge our family, then they don’t understand the meaning of true love.’
Earlier this year, Sav confirmed to his family what they had suspected for some time: he wanted to transition to become a man.
‘Weirdly, that wasn’t as big a revelation,’ he says. ‘I told them by text. Immediately, they wanted to know everything: was I going to take hormones, change my body, have surgery? I needed to make sure I knew what path I was going to take before I answered them.’
To date, Sav hasn’t taken any physical or medical steps towards becoming a man: his trans journey has been social and emotional.
He told his GP last August and is now on a waiting list for a gender identity clinic – a process that could take three years. He is well aware of the controversies surrounding the ideologies of some clinics, particularly the advocation of hormone-blockers – which stop puberty, but whose side- and long-term effects are not yet fully understood – for children under the age of 18.
Today, the pair might look like opposites – he in a black hoodie and baggy trousers; she in a short velvet dress and platform heels – but the similarities are striking
Sav’s biggest relief is being able to be completely open with Suchita, his closest ally and staunchest supporter, with whom he can now discuss anything
The world’s largest clinic, the Gender Identity Development Service in London (known as the Tavistock), is set to close in March after a review declared its care for young people as ‘inadequate’.
‘I know there have been big issues around transitioning before 18, so I made the conscious decision not to do that,’ explains Sav.
‘I’m not anti-hormone blockers: I know there are some young people who struggle more than I do with body dysmorphia, and that can lead to depression and self-harm.
‘I got quite lucky with puberty: I was terrified of growing breasts around 12 or 13, but genetics meant that was never really a problem for me.’
To truly understand his feelings, and the options available, Sav start doing extensive research and speaking to other people in the LGBTQ+ community.
‘I wanted to explore my gender without any expectations or assumptions,’ he explains.
‘Transitioning is a huge decision. I didn’t want to set anything in stone until I was sure.’
His biggest relief is being able to be completely open with Suchita, his closest ally and staunchest supporter, with whom he can now discuss anything.
Today, the pair might look like opposites – he in a black hoodie and baggy trousers; she in a short velvet dress and platform heels – but the similarities are striking.
They are quick to laugh, with a habit of finishing each other’s sentences. Both wear matching gold chains bearing a religious symbol; ‘a family thing,’ they explain.
They’re even back to sharing a bedroom in their parents’ home in Watford, something Sav, a third-year Philosophy, Politics and Economics student at University College London, says makes financial sense – ‘but it’s annoying, because I have to make her bed every morning.’
He dreams of working in TV, making documentaries about race and the LGBTQ+ community, and has got himself an internship at a media company after graduation.
Suchita, meanwhile, works as a communications and engagement officer for the local council, something she says enables her to ‘give back’ while pursuing her Miss England dreams.
Sharing their story with the world hasn’t been easy, but they hope it might help other young people struggling with gender, sexuality or identity.
‘Since Sav came out as gay and trans, it’s forced us to talk about those really deep things, which, in our culture, wasn’t really something we did before,’ says Suchita. Though she recognised Sav as male all those years ago, she says their bond will always be rooted in ‘sisterhood’.
‘We’ve been through so much together,’ she adds. ‘We are still genetically identical. Everything Savita feels, I feel, too.’
Sav describes his sister as his ‘ultimate wingman’, by his side through his darkest and most turbulent moments.
‘Whatever comes next on this journey,’ he adds, ‘I know she’s always got my back.’
Content source – www.soundhealthandlastingwealth.com
