What Building a Website Taught Me (Besides the Fact That I Can Google Like a Pro)

Plain and simple…I was treating my business like a hobby! Like a side hustle that never got the hustle memo. I’d spend hours creating...pouring love, color, and caffeine into my designs...and then crickets when it came time to actually promote or work on the business side of things.

It was like planning the trip of a lifetime...dream itinerary, bags packed, passport ready...and then forgetting to set your alarm for your 6:00 AM flight. All that excitement, all that prep… and you sleep right through it. That’s exactly how I was treating my business. I was doing all the fun stuff...designing, doodling, daydreaming...but totally snoozing on the parts that would actually get me off the runway.

Building my website? 
That was the wake-up call. The boarding pass. The "get your butt to the gate" moment. It forced me to stop treating my creativity like a cute little hobby and start showing up like I was ready to go somewhere.

Here are a few (sometimes painful, sometimes hilarious) things I learned in the process:

1. My Process Was...a Hot Mess


I had a wildly inconsistent workflow. Some designs got the royal treatment: iPad to Mac to portfolio. Others? Left to rot in iPad limbo, collecting digital cobwebs. There was no rhyme or reason. Just hope and good intentions. Spoiler: that’s not a strategy. Hope and good intentions do not build…anything!

2. My Style Was Already There (and It Was Me All Along)


I used to stress about “finding my style” like it was a lost sock in the last laundry load. But turns out, your style isn’t something you find. It’s just you. It’s what naturally flows from your brain to your hand when you create. It’s the mood you’re in, the colors you are attracted to, the stories you want to tell. And just like you grow, your style grows too. So instead of chasing it, I just started trusting it.

This realization hit me hard when I started selecting which art pieces to include on the website and which ones didn’t make the cut. I started to see patterns. A clear voice emerging in the colors, characters, and playful weirdness that kept showing up. The more I curated, the more I realized: Oh hey, look at that I do have a style after all! And it wasn’t something I forced. It was just... already there, quietly being me the whole time.

3. My Brand = Me (But Like...the Real Me)

Yes, I know, obviously my brand is me. But I had to dig deeper than that. What about me? My tone? My colors? My love for doodles and my all-black wardrobe?

At my day job, someone else makes all the decisions and I just work within the framework. But when it came to my own brand? I am the framework. That Squarespace template? Cute starting point. But every decision from there? All on me. Terrifying at first... until it wasn’t. Once I found my groove, I was in decision making mode.

Like the fact that my website’s header and footer are super minimal—no bold colors or chaos. That was intentional. I realized that the color of my brand lives in the work itself. The website is black, white, grey with a tiny splash of color (basically just like my closet), and then boom you land on a portfolio page and it’s like opening a rainbow. That contrast? That’s me. Monochrome on the outside, full color on the inside.

So, what did building a website really teach me? 
It made me dig deep…into my files, into my habits, into me. To stop hiding behind “just creating” and start showing up like the creative I am. Turns out, a website isn’t just a place to show off your work. It’s a reflection of who you are, how you work, and what you’re about.

Now? I’m not just designing. I’m here to build something. I’m running a business with intention and structure. And now, I’ve got the runway, the flight, and the destination.

And let’s be real, this is just the beginning. I’m positive next month I will have learned something new!

If you’re wondering whether it’s time for you to stop playing small and step into the CEO shoes (or fuzzy socks, whatever works for you), building a website might just be the kick in the leggings you need.

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How Airtable Saved My Design Portfolio (and My Sanity)