Why Moving from Squarespace to Ghost Saved My Sanity

I’ve been sitting on this damn fence for too long. My ass, back, neck, and head all hurt from the duration — the research rabbit holes, the one question that leads to twenty more, exponential question growth (is that a thing?). Instincts pull one direction, “expert” voices pull another.

Get off the fence. It’s time. Make a decision. Take the next step.

Let’s go for it. Let’s make the move.

Deciding to move my primary site from Squarespace to Ghost wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t reactive. It wasn’t even sudden.

It was gradual.

And ultimately, it came down to purpose and ease of use.

Why I Even Started Thinking About Moving

For years — and I mean years — I’ve wanted to implement a simple, consistent way to talk to readers. Not one-to-one. That part has always been solid. Clear communication, thoughtful replies, steady work.

What was missing was the broader conversation. Notes. Updates. Ideas worth sharing.

A newsletter was the obvious answer. So why hadn’t I done it already?

Honestly, it was discomfort.

Committing to something consistent. Something thoughtful. Something worth reading. That carries weight. There was always that quiet question in the background:

Does anyone really want this?

Writing on a routine basis takes time. It takes attention. It takes energy.

It wasn’t about the number of readers, members, followers, audience growth, or metrics. It was about clearing out the growing pile of half-written notes and saved links — the kind of stuff you swear you’ll “share later” — and actually turning them into something real.

I wasn’t necessarily searching for a bigger audience (although that would be nice). I needed a better outlet — something faster, simpler, and focused on writing instead of tweaking.

The idea of publishing those thoughts felt better than letting them rot in a folder somewhere. If nothing else, this space could serve as a logbook for discoveries, observations, and half-formed thoughts.

I realized I might be talking into the void for a while. But that isn’t the worst thing.

It’s often where ideas begin. Eventually, someone hears them.

What mattered more was motion. Clearing space. Narrowing focus.

And somewhere in the middle of planning all of that, it hit me:

The ideas weren’t the problem.
The platform was.

A Deeper Motivation to Move — When Tools Become Traps

As I started outlining how publishing would actually work — the cadence, the writing flow, the workflow — something felt off.

Was Squarespace the right environment for this direction?

For a portfolio site and occasional blog posts, absolutely. It’s capable. It’s mostly polished. It does what it promises.

But for consistent publishing, it felt heavier than it needed to be.

Tools are supposed to simplify. Reduce friction. Make the work smoother.

It wasn’t one glaring flaw. It was accumulation.

Small adjustments that required workarounds.
Changes that interrupted flow.
Extra steps where there didn’t need to be extra steps.

Individually, manageable. Collectively, distracting.

Tablet limitations. Spacing quirks. Updates that introduced new adjustments. Nothing catastrophic — just constant.

Over time, I noticed something simple: I was spending more energy navigating the tool than using it.

And that’s when the question stopped being “Is this good enough?”
It became “Is this aligned with what I’m trying to build now?”

Why I Almost Stayed

Familiarity is powerful.

I know Squarespace well. I’ve used it for years. It excels at visual layout on the surface. Building clean pages is straightforward — until you start pushing the edges. There’s comfort in that fluency.

Leaving meant learning something new. Different structures. Different assumptions. A different way of thinking about themes and content.

That’s friction too.

But stepping back clarified something important:

Squarespace is optimized for presentation.
Ghost is optimized for publishing.

At this stage, publishing mattered more.

That was the shift.

It wasn’t about finding something better.
It was about finding something more aligned.

Moving Forward

Ghost isn’t perfect.

It doesn’t need to be.

Still.

The editor feels focused. The publishing flow feels intentional. The friction feels lighter. I spend less time adjusting and more time writing.

That difference matters.

Not because one platform wins and the other loses.

But because I don’t need everything anymore.

I need fewer moving parts. Fewer decisions. Fewer adjustments.

More focus.

Friction is easy to rationalize. You tell yourself every tool has tradeoffs. That you’ll adapt. That it’s fine.

Sometimes that’s true.

But sometimes friction is a signal.

And sometimes the simplest move is just to remove what isn’t helping you move forward.

This wasn’t about finding something better.

It was about choosing something that fits where I am right now.

And right now, that feels right.

Alright — go reduce friction.