I spent four hours staring at a template only to go back to my notebook
Getting stuck on the blank screen
I really thought using one of those drag-and-drop website builders would be the fast track to getting my portfolio page up. I was looking at these platforms, the ones that promise to make you look like a pro with just a few clicks. I spent about forty dollars on a monthly subscription for one of these services because I figured if I was paying, I wouldn’t have to deal with the messy coding parts that always seem to break whenever I try to touch them. The templates looked clean, modern, and very much like everything else on the internet. I started dragging around blocks for images and text, thinking I could just swap out the placeholders and be done by lunch.
The curse of too many options
Around the two-hour mark, things started to feel weird. I kept switching between different layouts. One minute I wanted a grid-based look that reminded me of those high-end UX portfolios I saw on GDWeb, and the next I was obsessed with a minimalist single-page layout. The problem with these AI-driven template sites is that they give you way too much freedom to mess things up. I spent an absurd amount of time trying to figure out if my font choice looked ‘professional’ or just ‘default.’ I ended up with five different versions of the same page, and none of them actually felt like me. It was like trying to fit my messy thoughts into a very rigid, shiny box.
Why I gave up on the AI suggestions
At one point, the site suggested that I use their built-in AI to generate some ‘on-brand’ copy. I typed in a few keywords about my design projects, and the result was so generic that it made me cringe. It sounded like a consultant who had never actually met me. I tried to edit it, but then the character count didn’t match the design blocks, and everything started shifting around again. I remember sitting there, feeling annoyed at the white space between two sections that I couldn’t get to look even on mobile. It wasn’t the software’s fault, really, but it felt like I was spending more energy managing the tool than actually showing my work.
The reality of maintaining these things
Even after I got a basic version up, the thought of maintaining it felt heavy. These platforms always talk about ‘business growth’ and ‘scaling,’ but I just wanted a place to store my notes and sketches. I started thinking about the SSL certificates and the domain linking I had to configure, and how one wrong click could probably take the whole thing offline. It’s funny how a site meant to simplify things can feel like a part-time job. I started wondering if a simple document or a shared folder would have been enough, but I was already committed to the paid plan for the month.
Going back to basics
After five hours, I just closed the tab. I left it exactly as it was, half-finished. I’m not sure if I’ll even log back in next week to finish it. There’s something about the way these templates dictate how you present your information that feels a bit soulless. I ended up opening my old physical notebook and drawing out how I actually want things to look, ignoring all the grid constraints and the pre-made blocks. Maybe I’ll try to find a simpler way to code it myself, or maybe I’ll just leave the site as a draft for another few weeks. The ‘easy’ way didn’t feel easy at all.
