I made it my own: my site with Astro • Tedevs

Having a personal website is almost a “rite of passage” in any developer’s life.

A place to show who you are, what you do, and how you think.
A space that represents you.

But when I set out to create mine, I ran into a question we ask ourselves more often than we admit:

Is it wrong to use something that’s already made?
Does my site matter less if I didn’t build it from scratch?

The portfolio I never showed#

My first serious attempt at having a personal website was in 2022.

I was excited to start, but also full of doubts. So I went with what felt most accessible at the time: a step-by-step tutorial. I followed every line of code, every component, every tweak. I understood what it did, I learned new things, and I ended up with a functional, clean, good-looking website.

But even so… I kept it hidden.
I never published it. Never shared it on social media.
I didn’t even make the repo public.

Not because it was bad, but because I struggled to call it “mine.” I felt that since I had followed a tutorial, it wasn’t enough. That if someone saw it, they’d think “he just copied the code” and that I hadn’t contributed anything.

And that fear, even though no one ever told me so directly, was enough to keep me silent. I was almost ashamed to show something that hadn’t come entirely from my own head. I thought that for it to be worth sharing, I had to have built it entirely from scratch, without leaning on anything or anyone.

Now I see that this mindset held me back more than it helped. Because that site —even though it was from a guide— was part of my learning. It was my first real step. But back then, I didn’t see it that way.

The portfolio I did show (but didn’t represent me)#

In 2024, I decided to try again. I made a second portfolio, also based on a tutorial, but this time I dared to modify it more. I changed the colors, the section order, the texts. I gave it a more personal touch.

I shared it. I published it. I even used it a few times when applying for jobs. It worked.

And while it looked good on the outside, inside something still didn’t click. It felt functional, but not authentic. I had made it “fit its purpose,” but it didn’t reflect me the way I wanted.

It was like wearing a shirt that fits, but isn’t your style.
It wasn’t ugly. It wasn’t poorly made. But it didn’t speak about me.

I used it, yes. But with a certain discomfort. As if I were presenting a generic version of myself.

And that —instead of motivating me to keep building on it— stopped me again.

Finding a middle ground#

For this current site —the one you’re seeing— I wanted to do things differently.

I didn’t want to impress with animations or unnecessary effects. I didn’t want to lose days in Figma or stress over choosing between 15 font styles.
What I wanted was simple… but not easy:

For it to represent me.
For it to motivate me to write and share more.
For it to be maintainable over time, without relying on “having extra time.”

So I started with what always helps me: inspiration.
I spent weeks exploring other developers’ portfolios. I browsed developer-portfolios ↗, saved dozens of links, and built my own list of favorites 🌟Portfolios ↗ on GitHub. Some I liked for the design, others for their clarity. But few really grabbed me.

Until I found astro-theme-pure ↗.
Minimalist. Content-focused. Easy to modify.
It was exactly what I was looking for —even though I didn’t know it yet.

And of course, that doubt came back. That little voice in my head saying:

“Are you going to use a template again?”
“Shouldn’t you do it from scratch now that you know more?”
“Does this really count as your portfolio?”

I thought about it. But this time, I decided to answer honestly:
Yes, I’m going to use a template. Because what matters isn’t proving I can start from scratch, but building something I actually want to maintain.

And with that decision, I got to work.

I didn’t start from scratch, but I transformed it#

Using a template doesn’t mean you didn’t do anything.
It means you understood that your time is valuable. That your priorities change. And that sometimes, moving forward with a good foundation is smarter than stopping out of technical pride.

So I rolled up my sleeves and got to work. I changed the texts, edited links, replaced the .md posts, removed sections that didn’t fit me. I adjusted the navigation, modified metadata and images, and added small visual details that represent me.

At first it felt strange, I admit. Because part of me still thought:

“You didn’t make this from scratch.”

But another part —a more realistic one— told me:

“It’s not about starting from zero. It’s about finally finishing something this time. And sharing it.”

And that’s what I did. I built a space I can come back to whenever I want to write something new. One that doesn’t overwhelm me to maintain or limit me. One that —even though it’s still evolving— already has a base, personality, and rhythm.

What I learned in the process#

I learned that building from scratch isn’t the only way.

I learned that:

Adapting doesn’t mean copying.
I can transform something pre-made into something that represents me.
I improved in Astro without needing to reinvent the whole project.
I dared to edit files I wouldn’t have touched before.
I started seeing content as something alive, not something you publish just once.

But most importantly, I learned that creating doesn’t always mean inventing. Sometimes, it means adopting and transforming.

Does it matter less because I didn’t build it from scratch?#

No.
It doesn’t matter less. Not one bit.

This site isn’t a technical exam.
It’s not a competition to see who wrote the most lines of code.
It’s not a medal you can only earn if you started with npm init.

This site is a space.
And as a space, it’s worth what it allows you to do, not how it began.

Its value lies in the fact that you worked on it, made it yours, and are using it.
That it represents you, is in production, and is alive.

And even though it started as a template, today it’s deeply mine.
Because I understood it, modified it, adapted it.
Because I decided to stop waiting for the perfect moment to “do it from scratch” and simply… made it work.

And that —in any language, framework, or stack—
is also building.

Are you at that stage where you’d like to have your own site but aren’t sure if using a template is “valid”?
Are you worried it will look unprofessional, or that someone will say “I’ve seen that before”?

I hope this post serves as a reminder:

It doesn’t matter how you start.
What matters is making it yours.
Building something that helps you grow.
And understanding that in this journey, creating is also transforming.