My Journey to Building My Own Website

This story might sound familiar. I’ve been working in design for more than 15 years, and even after all that time, I still love it. My work is also my biggest passion, and I’m grateful for that. Over the years, I’ve designed dozens of websites for clients, from small personal sites to large-scale eCommerce platforms, but ironically, I never managed to finish my own. This post is about why that happened, what I’ve learned along the way, and hopefully, it might help someone else avoid the same mistakes.

It all comes down to my drive for perfection. I always wanted every detail to be flawless — the typography, the animations, the layout, even the tiniest micro-interaction. But I eventually realized that “perfect” doesn’t exist. Chasing 100% often means never finishing at all, because the goalpost keeps moving. And the truth is, websites aren’t monuments carved in stone. They’re living, evolving projects. Let’s break it down step by step.

Why Did I Think I Needed a Website?

When I started my career, I was convinced that having a personal website was essential. At first, the motivation was clear: I wanted to attract new clients and show that I was serious about my craft. Having a sharp, professional-looking site felt like a requirement if I wanted to be taken seriously in the design world.

But as my career evolved, I realized something important: most of my clients didn’t come from my website at all. They came through recommendations, word of mouth, and my growing network. In other words, I could survive without a site. And yet, the desire to create one never went away. For me, the website became less about lead generation and more about having a digital home — a place that represented my style, my process, and the kind of work I wanted to attract.

Version 15 of total 10,145 concepts for my personal website

What Stopped Me From Launching It?

The biggest obstacle was me. I kept getting stuck in an endless cycle of overthinking and overbuilding:

• Redesign after redesign: Every time I came close to something that felt good enough, I would tear it down and start over because it didn’t feel “fresh” anymore.

• Too many ideas: I wanted to try every new design tool, framework, or trend. Should I code it myself? Use Framer? Go fully no-code? Each new idea felt exciting — but also reset the clock.

• Perfectionism: Deep down, I believed my personal site had to be my ultimate case study. It had to prove that I knew my craft better than anyone else. That pressure made the project heavier with every iteration.

The result? My website lived only in drafts, Figma boards, and endless prototypes. I was great at starting but terrible at finishing.

Version 645 of total 10,145 concepts for my personal website

The Turning Point

At some point, I had to confront the uncomfortable truth: What’s worse — publishing a less-than-perfect website, or having no website at all? The answer was obvious, even if I didn’t want to admit it. A “good enough” website still works better than an invisible one. Nobody else is scrutinizing my site the way I am. Most visitors spend a few minutes browsing, not hours analyzing my choice of typography.

Why Early Feedback Matters

Another big realization was that feedback shouldn’t just come from me. For years, I was my own harshest critic, endlessly reworking things in isolation. But when I started sharing early drafts with friends, clients, and peers, everything shifted. What felt “not good enough” to me often looked clear, professional, and valuable to them. Their feedback not only gave me confidence but also showed me blind spots I couldn’t see on my own.

Getting input early — even on rough sketches — is far more powerful than polishing something in silence for months. Involving others from the first iterations not only speeds things up but also helps create a website that resonates better with the people it’s meant for.

I also started noticing that some of the designers I admire most don’t have the “perfect” websites either. They have straightforward pages that showcase their work and personality. And they work just fine.

Lessons Learned

• Done is better than perfect. The sooner you ship something, the sooner it starts working for you.

• Start small. Even a simple one-page site with a bio, contact info, and a portfolio link has value.

• Iterate later. Websites are never finished. They’re living projects that can grow with you.

• Don’t overcomplicate. The tools and frameworks matter far less than clarity and authenticity.

• Seek feedback early. Don’t just critique your own work in isolation — involve others from the first iterations. Fresh eyes make all the difference.

Version 6,124 of total 10,145 concepts for my personal website

Final Thoughts

Building my own website taught me more about mindset than about design itself. I learned that perfectionism, while useful in certain moments, can easily become a trap. Once I let go of the idea that my website had to be a masterpiece, things started to move forward. The moment I decided to publish something simple — not perfect, just real — was the moment I broke free of the cycle.

And in case you’re wondering: yes, my current website is built with Framer. Tools like this are a big reason why creating and launching digital projects has become so much faster and more approachable than it used to be. Instead of spending months coding from scratch, we now have the flexibility to focus on design, content, and iteration — the things that actually matter to users.

If you’re stuck on your own personal project, whether it’s a website, a portfolio, or something else, maybe this is the reminder you need: just hit publish. You can always refine it tomorrow, but you can’t improve something that doesn’t exist.

✨ What about you? Have you ever struggled to finish your own project because you wanted it to be perfect? How did you break out of it?