Connect
To Top

Life, Values & Legacy: Our Chat with Darshal Smith of Howard County, MD

Darshal Smith shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Darshal, it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: What is something outside of work that is bringing you joy lately?
My biggest joy, my why – my daughter Gabby is off to college in the fall! She is everything a mother could hope and pray for! I’m so incredibly grateful to be her mama bear and so proud of her!

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Allow me to reintroduce myself… I’m Darshal Smith, affectionately known as Dee The Doula—a name, a vibe, a calling.

I’m the founder of Dee The Doula Maternal & Holistic Wellness Services, where I offer full-spectrum support across the maternal wellness journey—from fertility to postpartum and everything in between. Think of me as your birth bestie, your womb wellness guide, your sex-positive doula auntie, your herbal plug, and your go-to for placenta encapsulation, yoni healing, and deep, intuitive care. If it’s connected to the womb, I’m tapped in.

I’ve been walking in this work for over a decade—advocating, educating, nurturing, and holding space for Black and brown families as they navigate birth, loss, pleasure, healing, and everything that comes with creating life. Born in Mississippi, raised in PG County, and now rooted in Howard County, Maryland—I carry the grounding of the South with the electric pulse of the DMV. It’s in my voice, my care, my flavor.

What makes my approach different?
I show up as my whole self. Always.

I bring the receipts—professional training, evidence-based practices, trauma-informed care—but also the intangible: lived experience, ancestral wisdom, intuitive knowing, and a radical belief that birthwork is soul work. I don’t just support your body through labor—I hold space for your spirit. This work is sacred to me. It’s not just about comfort measures and contraction timing. It’s about storytelling, lineage, transformation, and reclaiming power in a system that too often strips it away.

And while I’m still actively supporting families in the birth space, I’ve also expanded how I hold space—through mentorship. Because I believe there’s room for a million more doulas. Seriously. This isn’t a competition; it’s a calling. I’m here to help forge a path forward for aspiring and emerging doulas who want to serve from a place of purpose, power, and cultural alignment. Whether it’s breaking into birthwork, creating sustainable offerings, or staying spiritually rooted while doing this heart-centered labor—I’m here to guide, uplift, and help other doulas thrive.

As a Birth Strategist, Maternal Wellness Educator, and holistic healer, I mix ancient rituals with modern tools. I believe healing should feel good. Advocacy should feel bold. And support should feel like home.

So whether you’re calling me for a birth plan, a belly laugh, a womb tea, or a cry session—I got you.

This is more than a business—it’s a movement. A soft, sensual, spiritual revolution rooted in love, legacy, and liberation.

Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
My earliest memory of feeling powerful wasn’t just one moment—it was a season. I was in the thick of surviving breast cancer—not once, but twice. At the same time, I was navigating motherhood, showing up for my child, pouring into my purpose, and still pushing through school to earn my degrees. It was chaos and clarity all at once.

I didn’t feel powerful because everything was perfect. I felt powerful because everything wasn’t—yet I was still moving. Still rising. Still showing up for others while rebuilding myself piece by piece. That level of resilience, that ability to create joy and stability in the middle of uncertainty, that was the moment I realized just how powerful I really am.

Power, for me, is being soft and strong at the same time. It’s holding space for others while healing yourself. It’s leading with love, even when life tries to harden you. That season transformed me—it showed me I wasn’t just built to survive, I was born to lead, to serve, and to shine.

What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
One of the defining wounds of my life has been silently battling depression while still trying to “show up” for everything and everyone. Being a mama, wondering daily if you’re doing it right. Holding space for others while barely holding it together yourself. Running a business. Working full time. Being a leader in multiple organizations. Being a woman… a Black woman in a world that often demands your magic but rarely protects your peace. Being unapologetically comfortable in my vulnerability. That’s strength!

It’s heavy. It’s layered. And for a long time, I carried it all without letting it show.

But healing started when I gave myself permission to feel, to fall apart, and to be seen in my softness—not just my strength. Therapy helped. Sisterhood helped. Ancestors whispered. My daughter grounded me. And I began creating space not just for others to heal, but for me to heal too.

Now I know that power isn’t in perfection—it’s in presence. It’s in the decision to keep showing up, keep softening, keep loving yourself through the hard parts. I’m still healing. Still learning. But I’m no longer ashamed of my wounds. They made me wise.

One belief I’m deeply committed to—no matter how long it takes—is that Black women and birthing people deserve to experience birth and healing in spaces that were built for them, by them, with cultural safety, sacred care, and deep-rooted dignity at the center.

I’m committed to building systems, programs, and pathways that don’t just plug into what already exists—but reimagine the entire way we care for bodies, births, and futures. I want to create ecosystems that nurture birthworkers, uplift community healers, and transform how we learn, teach, and pass down womb wisdom.

It’s a long game. And I’m in it.

This work goes far beyond doula services for me. I’m thinking generationally. I’m dreaming expansively. And I’m planting seeds now for something much bigger than me—something that will serve, educate, and heal for years to come.

Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. What do you think people will most misunderstand about your legacy?
I think what people will most misunderstand about my legacy is thinking it’s only about birthwork—like I’m just the doula, the womb girl, the herbalist. But what I’m really doing is soul work, system disruption, and ancestral healing. I’m not just supporting people through labor—I’m helping them remember who they are before the world told them otherwise.

They might reduce it to a service, a hustle, a niche. But the truth is—my legacy is about liberation, lineage restoration, and radical self-preservation. Because in a world that asks women to give until we’re empty, I’m out here teaching us how to pour back into ourselves, how to rest, how to reclaim pleasure, how to protect our peace like it’s sacred—because it is.

People might not fully grasp it now. They may not see the layers, the intention, the fight behind the softness. But that’s okay. Every piece of what I do is a love letter to the future—so when the next generation looks back, they’ll know exactly what I was building.

Contact Info:

Image Credits
Tierra Wilson

Columbia Alumni Chapter of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc.

 

Suggest a Story: VoyageBaltimore is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in Local Stories