OVERLAND, Mo. _ She darted into her bedroom, eager to show off the sanctuary of an 11-year-old girl.
It is an infusion of pink and purple, colors replayed in her clothes and highlighted in her hair.
Mazy shares the room with two guinea pigs and Squirt, a goldfish that has outgrown its name.
Here, she closes off the world when she needs to. Outside of this small house she shares with her parents and brother lies the pain of the past, the hope of the future, the unknown that keeps Mom and Dad awake at night.
On a floor lamp in the corner hangs a poster board sign.
"I'm just a girl," it reads.
In smaller letters, Mazy added: " ... in a boy's body."
As a fifth-grader, Mazy has now lived nearly a third of her life as the person she says she was supposed to be. Born Malachi, she never identified as a boy. Before she could talk, Mazy would slide into her mom's high heels and put on her tops, cinching them at the waist for a makeshift dress.
When Mazy was 3, she pleaded for a toy kitchen for Christmas, which she got. But when she begged for a princess dress, Mom initially said no.
"For me, I gave birth to a son and boys don't normally wear dresses," Amber Gilleylen, 35, said. "I didn't put a lot of stock into it."
Through kindergarten and first grade, while still dressing as a boy, kids at school peppered Mazy with mean comments. She wanted to play with the girls, who told her to go play with the boys. By second grade, she was coming home every afternoon crying.
"I want to start over. Be a girl like I'm supposed to be," Mazy would tell her mom.
"I don't think that's how it works," Amber told Mazy.
"I just don't fit in, Mommy, and I need you to help me make this stop."
Mazy's grades were horrible. She couldn't sleep at night.
"I'm thinking: 'What am I doing wrong? I want her happy,'" Amber said.
The solution was simple, she said.
"All I have to do is let her be herself."
But that would be the hardest thing Amber and her husband, Donte, ever had to do.
TURNING POINT
As a second-grader, Mazy would come home from school, go into her room and put on girls clothes. Eventually, she began wearing them around the house. Along the way, Mazy was growing out her hair. One day, while her mom was sitting on the front porch, Mazy appeared in a cheerleader uniform.
About the same time, Donte drove up.
"Uh, what's going on?" he asked Amber. A few minutes later, Donte, 35, said he was going to get gas. Amber and Mazy jumped in the car.
Donte gave Amber a look that said: "Let's not do this."
Letting her out of the house as a girl was too dangerous. People would not understand. And if her parents were struggling with it, how could they expect those who don't know Mazy to embrace her new identity?
Amber assured Donte it would be fine. Amber and Mazy went inside the convenience store to buy milk, passing a woman who was on her way out.
"She's so beautiful," the woman said.
Mazy looked up at her mom.
"She called me a girl. A real girl," Mazy said. "She doesn't know."
It was a turning point for Donte.
"You're right," he said to Amber. "It's not so bad."
Inside the car, it became a celebration.
"I honestly don't think she stopped talking about that for weeks," Amber said.
Mazy decided soon thereafter she wanted to go to school as a girl.
Amber wrote an email to school administrators, Mazy's teacher, counselor and social worker.
"Mazy wants to come to school as herself. This is not a stunt, and I'm not asking."
Amber received a call from the assistant principal the next day.
"We are so excited to meet Mazy. Let us know what we can do to accommodate her," the assistant principal said.
It was a refreshing response after family and friends, more often than not, would suggest Mazy was just going through a phase.
And Donte also had reservations: "How do you know this is real? How do you know this is not a mistake?"
"Questions," Amber said, "that were honestly sitting in the back of my mind."
Mazy's official debut would come on the last day of second grade. She chose a "My Little Pony" outfit from Wal-Mart. Pink striped shirt with pink shorts.
"Are you sure you don't want to be Malachi anymore?" Amber asked one last time.
"I don't want anyone to know I was ever a boy," Mazy replied.
Donte vacillated from supporter to protector. There are people who will not be kind. Daddy's little girl may not be accepted as such.
The worries of her parents were unfounded. At least that day.
"Ultimately, she had an amazing day," Amber said. "It was the first time I saw Mazy smile in I don't know how long.
"We met a whole new person."
BULLYING AT SCHOOL
Mazy was now Mazy. No looking back. With her parents on board, out went the boy clothes. No more mention of Malachi.
But not everyone saw Mazy as a beautiful little girl, like the woman at the gas station had. When Mazy tried to join the Girl Scouts, some parents objected, saying they should not be forced to accept something they do not approve of. Children at school bullied her. One student spit in her food. Another kicked her in the shins. Mazy was falling behind, unable to focus. Her nights included insomnia and panic attacks.
In the middle of fourth grade, her parents decided to pull her out of school. Amber would teach her at home.
"We have not turned back," Amber said, sitting in Mazy's bedroom. While Amber talked about home schooling, Donte pulled in a chair from the kitchen, grabbed a white board and challenged his daughter to a game of tic-tac-toe.
"I've lost my free time. But that's OK," Amber said. "I am more content knowing Mazy will be OK. A big, huge weight is gone. It's a million times better."
Home schooling, however, may not last beyond fifth grade. Mazy and her parents have talked about going back into the Ritenour School District next year for middle school.
"Social environments to navigate are important to her," Amber said. Mazy's parents say it is better to confront problems than run away from them. That will include what bathroom Mazy will use. And whether they tell school officials that their daughter is transgender.
But this is the best fit for now. Getting Mazy caught up in her studies. Taking away the anxiety of an unpredictable outside world.
"We want to give her a fair chance," Amber said.
Last year, Donte and Amber had Mazy's name changed on her birth certificate. Mazy Star Maria is the name their daughter chose: Mazy because she liked the way it sounded; Star because "I think they are one of the most beautiful things in the whole world"; and Maria because that was Amber's grandmother's name.
It was another part of letting go. Malachi Devonte is a name Mazy's parents spent a great deal of time selecting. Malachi is a biblical name, a nod to Donte's Baptist upbringing, the son of a pastor. Devonte was chosen because of its similarity to Donte.
The gender marker on the birth certificate remains male. Biologically, that is the correct designation. And Mazy's parents want to keep it that way for now. In case their daughter has any health problems specific to genitalia, insurance navigation will be less cumbersome.
Going from Malachi to Mazy did, however, put a strain on her parents' marriage, even threatening it.
"The D word was definitely on the table for a minute," Amber said. Stresses remain. They are estranged from family and friends. And Mazy's parents still worry about her future.
"This is an extremely dangerous path for Mazy," Amber said of her biracial transgender girl. Her parents have seen the statistics regarding hate crimes and suicide when it comes to those who look very much like their daughter. They are worried, but letting Mazy guide them.
"Making her be someone she isn't isn't going to make her happy," Amber said. "No good will come from that."
WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
Mazy is concerned. Puberty is imminent and the hormone blockers a therapist has OK'd for her to take are not covered by the family's insurance. As a result, the process is out of reach for Donte, a fast food restaurant cook and Amber, a stay-at-home mom who has been unable to work since a serious car crash three years ago.
"This is a very real struggle in our house right now," Amber said. "Mazy doesn't want to transition into a boy and she is freaked out about it. She says: 'Mommy, don't let me get hair on my face, get a deep voice.'"
Her parents continue looking for ways to get the hormone blockers covered through insurance and hope to find answers from a parent support group they belong to. Meanwhile, Mazy continues to see a therapist twice a month.
Mazy has purged her bedroom of any sign of Malachi and eschews the name. But Amber has not quite let go.
"I still have a bag of Malachi's clothes. They are for me. Every once in a while, they come out and I smell them."
They are a reminder that the child she gave birth to was a boy. A boy whose parents had to mourn his loss to fully accept they had a girl.
It was tough, Donte said. But necessary.
Mazy's parents have asked her who she is attracted to. Nobody yet, Mazy says. It's her parents preparing for what could be next. If she likes girls, is she gay? If she likes boys, is she straight? If she likes both, is it OK?
Parents pondering. Worrying. Accepting.
As Amber shared her family's story, Mazy sat quietly, playing a video game.
"You still miss him don't you?" Mazy said, catching her mother off guard. Amber paused, looked at her daughter but didn't answer. She continued talking about Mazy's home schooling schedule.
But a few minutes later, Amber circled back to Mazy's question, answering it indirectly.
"I almost forget she was born a boy. ... She's a girl.
"Just a girl."
