Twelve Years, $1,687, and a 122% Price Hike: I'm Done With Squarespace
I've paid Squarespace every year since 2014. Same site, same usage, same nothing-has-changed account the entire time. My bill went from $86.40 to $192.00 — a 122% increase — for a total of $1,686.90 handed over across twelve renewals. That's a compounded growth rate of roughly 6.9% a year, every year, for a product that did not grow with me once.
This isn't a slow, honest climb. It's a script: hold the price flat long enough that you stop paying attention, then jump it 35% in a single cycle, then do it again. My bill dropped exactly once in twelve years, in 2025. Squarespace erased that "relief" the very next renewal and charged me more than ever. Once the number goes up, it does not come back down. That's not inflation. That's a company that found the exact ceiling of what a loyal customer will tolerate without canceling, and started pricing right up against it.
I'm Not the Only One They're Doing This To
Squarespace just pushed increases of up to 26% across Basic, Core, Plus, and Advanced plans, and didn't bother explaining why beyond a quiet email to affected customers (PetaPixel).
Go look at r/squarespace right now. There's a thread with 168 upvotes and 100+ comments of customers describing this exact same pattern: a five-year climb to what one person flatly calls "outright exploitation," bills pushing toward $350 a year for sites that haven't been touched, and people pointing out — correctly — that they're being billed for AI tools they never asked for and never open (Reddit). One commenter's entire site is a single code block per page. They're still eating double-digit increases. That's not a pricing model. That's a company that stopped seeing you as a customer and started seeing you as a line item.
The Playbook, Since They Won't Say It Out Loud
They gate what used to be normal. Features that were fine on a personal plan last year get walled off behind a pricier tier this year — not because the feature changed, but because the invoice needed to go up.
They make you fund things you'll never use. AI writing tools, AI design tools, expanded commerce features — paid for by raising your rate whether you touch any of it or not.
They don't explain themselves. No public memo, no honest pricing page, just an email that shows up telling you the number changed. That's not communication. That's hoping you won't ask questions.
Stop Funding This. Leave.
If any of this matches your own billing history, stop assuming it's "just a few dollars a year" and actually add it up. Pull every invoice you've got and do the math the way I did above. Most people are paying more than double what they started at and have never once looked hard enough to notice.
Then do something about it:
Run the numbers on your own account. Total spend, year-over-year change, all of it. Know exactly what you've handed over.
Post your numbers. Comment, share, put it on your own site. The more of these are public, the harder it gets for this to stay quiet and easy for them.
Actually leave, or price out leaving. Even getting a real quote elsewhere gives you leverage you don't have while you're just quietly paying the renewal.
If you make the jump, say where you landed. This shouldn't just be a Reddit thread and a couple of angry blog posts — it should be customers actually walking.
Where I'm Going Instead
None of these companies are your friend either, but every one of them beats getting hiked on year after year for a product that never changes:
WordPress.org (self-hosted, on Bluehost, SiteGround, or WP Engine) — you own the content and the code outright. No platform can hold your site hostage on a pricing page, and hosting costs less than Squarespace does now.
Webflow — real design control, and code you can export if you ever want to leave them too.
Ghost — built for writers and newsletters, with pricing tiers that are actually published and don't move under you.
Framer — fast, modern, and the free tier is actually usable, not a bait plan.
Carrd — if your site is simple, this costs about $19 a year. That's the whole bill.
Pixpa — built for photographers and creatives, 0% commission on sales, and pricing that doesn't shift every renewal (Pixpa).
How to Actually Get Your Site Off Squarespace
They don't make this easy. That's the entire point of lock-in. Do it anyway:
Export what they'll let you export.Settings → Advanced → Import/Export → Export, then pick WordPress. You get an XML file with your blog posts and pages (Squarespace Help Center). It does not export your layout, custom code blocks, or forms. Don't expect it to.
Manually save everything else before you touch anything. Copy your page text, save custom CSS and code injections, screenshot galleries and layouts, write down your form fields. Do this first.
Deal with your domain before anything else moves. If Squarespace is your registrar, either unlock it and grab the authorization code to transfer it fully, or just repoint the nameservers to your new host and leave registration where it is. Repointing is faster. Transferring means Squarespace never touches it again.
Build the new site and import your content. On WordPress that's Tools → Import → WordPress Importer, upload the XML, assign attachments. Your navigation, homepage layout, and forms will not transfer. Rebuild them yourself.
Set up 301 redirects for any URL that changes shape, so search rankings and old links don't die on the way out.
Test the new site fully before you flip DNS. Use a staging URL or temporary subdomain. Catch broken images and dead links while the old site is still live and working.
Cancel Squarespace only after the new site is live, verified, and DNS has fully propagated — usually 24-48 hours. Cancel too early and you can lose access to your own content mid-move.
It's a weekend of work. Compare that to what you've already handed them, and it's the cheapest weekend you'll spend this year.
