There's been a lot of conversation lately about Etsy, its fees, its policies, and the growing number of sellers questioning whether the platform is still the right place for their businesses. I've seen people sharing their frustrations, discussing alternatives, and encouraging others to finally take the leap into building their own websites.
And as someone who walked away from Etsy years ago, I have some thoughts.
I'm not writing this to convince every Etsy seller to pack up their listings and leave. If Etsy is working for you, that's fantastic. But I do think there's a larger conversation worth having about what Etsy was, what it's become, and what it means to build a business on a platform you don't control.
When Etsy Was About Handmade
One of the things I genuinely appreciated about Etsy in its earlier years was its identity as a marketplace for handmade goods. It created a space where makers could showcase their work to people who were specifically looking for something different from what they'd find in a traditional retail store.
I've always believed people love handmade products, but they don't necessarily love paying handmade prices. That's an entirely different conversation we could spend hours having, but it's relevant here because Etsy originally attracted an audience that understood, or at least appreciated, the idea of buying something made by an individual rather than something pulled from a warehouse shelf.
There was something special about that concept. A marketplace built around makers, artists, and small businesses had the potential to introduce customers to people and products they might never have discovered otherwise.
And I understood why sellers wanted to be part of it.
The problem, at least from my perspective, was that the platform's business decisions began moving further away from the experience that originally made it appealing to me.
The Fees Were My Breaking Point
I understand that running an online marketplace costs money. Websites require infrastructure, payment processing isn't free, and businesses need revenue to operate. I'm a business owner myself, so I'm certainly not suggesting Etsy should provide its services for nothing.
But there comes a point when you have to ask whether the cost of participating in a marketplace is still worth what you're receiving in return.
For me, Etsy's fee structure became increasingly frustrating. It wasn't necessarily one individual fee that bothered me as much as the feeling that sellers were being charged at every opportunity.
One change that particularly bothered me was Etsy's decision to calculate transaction fees on shipping charges.
I understand why Etsy made that decision. Some sellers had been inflating shipping prices while keeping their product prices artificially low, allowing them to avoid paying transaction fees on part of the actual sale. That's not a fair practice, and I don't support sellers manipulating a system to avoid legitimate fees.
But I also couldn't help wondering whether there was another way to address the problem.
From my perspective, sellers finding creative ways to avoid fees should have prompted a broader conversation about why they felt compelled to do that in the first place. Instead, the solution was to apply transaction fees to shipping charges across the board.
And while I understand the business reasoning, I didn't agree with the approach.
Shipping isn't necessarily profit. Depending on what you're selling, the cost of packaging materials, postage, insurance, and getting an order safely to its destination can add up quickly. Having another percentage taken from that amount felt like one more expense being placed on the seller.
I recognize that Etsy's transaction fee on shipping wasn't the only expense involved in selling there, and that different sellers have different costs depending on their products, locations, and circumstances. My frustration was with the direction of the fee structure and what I felt it represented.
I also look at Etsy's Offsite Ads program today and understand why sellers are frustrated when an additional advertising fee can apply to qualifying orders. Depending on a shop's sales history and eligibility, participation may not even be optional.
For a business already operating on tight margins, those additional costs deserve serious consideration.
A fee doesn't have to be unreasonable for it to be wrong for your particular business. And when you're operating a small business, every expense deserves to be evaluated against the value you're receiving.
The Never-Ending Competition for Visibility
I never made a single sale on Etsy. Not one. But before anyone takes that as proof that Etsy didn't work for me, there's an important detail: I wasn't particularly trying to make sales there.
I had listings published, but I wasn't putting the same effort into optimizing them that other sellers were. I wasn't constantly rewriting titles to chase the latest search engine optimization trends or filling every available space with keywords in the hope that my products would appear ahead of someone else's.
I knew other sellers were investing significant time into those things, and I wasn't interested in competing that way.
That doesn't mean search engine optimization is inherently bad. It's an important part of running an online business, and I still have to think about SEO with my own website. But there's a difference between making your products easy to discover and feeling like you're constantly chasing an algorithm just to remain visible.
The reality is that marketing never stops changing. What worked last year might not work today, and what works today might be completely different six months from now.
When you're operating inside a marketplace, you're not just competing with other businesses for customers. You're also competing for visibility within a system whose rules and priorities can change. I wasn't interested in investing that kind of effort into Etsy's internal search results, particularly when I already knew I wanted my business to exist beyond the marketplace.
Somewhere Between Etsy and Amazon
If I had to describe what Etsy looks like to me today, I'd say it feels like a cross between the original Etsy and Amazon.
There are still genuine makers and artists selling beautiful handmade products. I don't want to diminish their work or suggest they've somehow become less legitimate simply because of where they choose to sell.
But the marketplace itself feels very different from the one that originally attracted me.
One of my biggest frustrations is the growing presence of products that blur the line between handmade, manufactured, and mass-produced merchandise. I understand that Etsy has expanded its categories and that not everything sold there is required to be handmade. Vintage items and craft supplies have long been part of the platform, too.
But when a marketplace builds its identity around creativity and handmade goods, I think it's reasonable for customers and sellers to expect that identity to mean something.
And then there's AI-generated art.
I have strong feelings about this, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
I don't support AI-generated artwork being presented as equivalent to work created by an artist. My objection goes beyond whether someone is disclosing that they used AI. I have concerns about how generative AI systems are trained on existing creative work, including work whose creators may not have consented to its use.
I also struggle with the comparison between someone spending hours, days, or weeks developing a piece of original artwork and someone generating a finished image through a series of prompts.
I recognize that using these tools can involve decisions, revisions, and effort. But I don't consider that process equivalent to creating the artwork yourself, and I don't believe AI-generated images belong in a marketplace built around handmade creativity.
That's my position. Other people are welcome to disagree, but it's another reason the modern version of Etsy doesn't appeal to me the way the original concept did.
Leaving Etsy Wasn't an Overnight Decision
I didn't wake up one morning, close my Etsy shop, and immediately launch a fully functioning Shopify website.
I actually spent some time using Ecwid before eventually closing the storefront side of my Etsy account. And I want to emphasize something here: I still have an Etsy account. I occasionally purchase digital files and other things through the platform. My decision to stop selling there wasn't some dramatic declaration that I would never interact with Etsy again.
I simply decided it wasn't where I wanted to build my business.
Eventually, I moved to Shopify, and that transition came with its own challenges.
Setting up my Shopify store wasn't easy for me. This was before the platform had the AI-assisted tools that can now help merchants with various parts of building and managing a website. I had to figure out how things worked, where settings were located, how to organize products, and how to make the website look and function the way I wanted.
There were moments when I was frustrated enough to question what I was doing, but I kept working at it.
And I think that's important to acknowledge because I don't want anyone reading this to believe that leaving a marketplace automatically makes running a business easier. It doesn't.
When you operate your own website, you're responsible for attracting customers, maintaining listings, marketing your products, and keeping everything running. You don't have a marketplace full of shoppers who are already browsing for something to purchase.
That responsibility can be intimidating, particularly when you're learning a new platform at the same time. But for me, the opportunity to build something around my own business identity made the effort worthwhile.
Etsy Customers Versus Your Customers
One of the biggest advantages Etsy offers sellers is access to an established audience.
Etsy spent years building trust with shoppers. Customers recognize the name, feel comfortable purchasing through the platform, and believe they have protections if something goes wrong. That's valuable, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
But I've always believed there's an important distinction between customers who are loyal to a marketplace and customers who are loyal to an individual business.
When someone buys a product through Etsy, how often do they remember the name of the shop they purchased it from? How often do they simply remember that they bought it on Etsy?
That's not necessarily a criticism of the customer. It's just the reality of shopping through a marketplace, and I think it's something sellers should consider.
Shopify understands the importance of trust, too. When a platform highlights the major brands that rely on its technology, part of what it's doing is building familiarity and credibility with businesses and consumers.
But there's a fundamental difference in how I experience that relationship as a merchant.
When someone shops on my website, they're shopping with Shop With The Lad. They're seeing my branding, browsing my products, and interacting with my business. They're not searching through thousands of competing storefronts on the same marketplace.
And when they want to find me again, I want them to remember my business name.
That's what I've been working to build.
Owning Your Storefront Doesn't Mean Owning the Internet
Before anyone interprets this as me saying Shopify gives you complete independence, it doesn't.
Shopify is still a platform with its own policies, fees, requirements, and payment-processing rules. It can change its pricing, introduce new features, discontinue existing ones, and take action against stores that violate its policies.
And yes, Shopify merchants can face account restrictions or payment holds, too.
The difference for me is the relationship between my business and the platform. With Etsy, my products existed within Etsy's marketplace. With Shopify, I'm operating my own branded storefront using Shopify's technology.
I also occasionally see discussions about Etsy shops being suspended or having funds held following intellectual property complaints. Some sellers report receiving complaints they believe are false or malicious, including allegations of competitors abusing reporting systems.
I can't independently verify every situation described in those conversations, and I certainly wouldn't suggest that every suspension is unjustified. Intellectual property protections exist for legitimate reasons.
But those stories reinforce why I think business owners should understand the risks of depending entirely on one platform.
I've personally never experienced that kind of shutdown with Shopify. That doesn't mean it couldn't happen, but my own experience has been different.
Regardless of which platform you choose, maintaining your business identity and giving customers ways to find you outside a single marketplace is something worth considering.
So, Should You Leave Etsy?
That's not a decision I can make for you.
If Etsy is working for your business, your products are selling, and you're comfortable with the fees you're paying, I don't see any reason you should feel pressured to leave simply because other sellers are unhappy.
Your business isn't mine, and what works for me might not work for you.
But if you've been thinking about leaving, my advice is pretty simple: do it, but don't feel like you have to do everything overnight.
Build your independent website while keeping your Etsy shop active. Give yourself time to learn how your new platform works, establish your branding, and figure out how you're going to attract customers.
Start giving people ways to find you outside of Etsy.
Include a flyer or business card in your packages with your website address and a QR code. Encourage customers to follow your business on social media. Make sure they know how to contact you directly and where they can find your products in the future.
Essentially, begin teaching your customers where to find you.
And I think that's advice that applies to every business, regardless of where you're currently selling. You should always be building recognition for your own business.
When you're comfortable with the transition, you can decide whether it's time to close your Etsy storefront or continue operating both. There's no universal timeline, and there's certainly no prize for leaving first.
Something I've noticed in the recent conversations about Etsy is that some sellers seem almost embarrassed that they're only now considering leaving. I don't think they should be.
People make business decisions based on the information, resources, and circumstances they have at the time. Maybe Etsy was generating consistent sales for them. Maybe they weren't comfortable building a website. Maybe they didn't have the time or money to invest in another platform. Or maybe the fees simply hadn't reached a point where leaving made financial sense.
All of those are legitimate considerations.
I'm not sitting here feeling vindicated because other sellers are now experiencing frustrations similar to mine. Everyone has their own breaking point, and mine simply came earlier.
If Etsy is still working for someone, why should they change something that's working?
What I hope these conversations accomplish is encouraging more small business owners to understand the platforms they're using, evaluate what they're paying for, and consider how they're building their businesses for the long term.
Building Something That's Mine
I don't regret leaving Etsy, and I don't regret the time I spent learning how to build and manage my own website, even when it was frustrating.
Today, Shopify is home for Shop With The Lad. It's where I manage my online store, connect my in-person sales, maintain my inventory, and continue developing the business I've spent years building.
It's not perfect, and it certainly isn't free. I still have to keep up with changing technology, marketing strategies, and the occasional platform frustration.
But when I invest time into improving my website, updating my listings, creating content, or promoting my products, I'm investing that effort into building recognition for Shop With The Lad.
Etsy may have been the right starting point for some businesses, and it may continue to be the right home for others. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.
It just wasn't the right home for mine.
And I'm perfectly comfortable with that.
Around the Table with The Lad is a place for honest conversations about vending, small business ownership, and the lessons we learn along the way. My experiences aren't universal, and my opinions aren't instructions. They're simply one perspective from someone who's spent years figuring things out, occasionally the hard way.