How I Became a Webflow Template Designer

Discovering the Webflow Template Designer Program

Back in 2022, while learning my way around Webflow, I stumbled upon the "Become a Template Designer" tab. I clicked it out of curiosity, not expecting much, and suddenly found myself staring at something that lit a spark.

Webflow had a marketplace where designers could sell their templates, offering an 80% revenue share. I was still new to Webflow, but the idea stuck with me. What if I could get in?

What really drew me in were three things:

• Total creative freedom. I wouldn’t need to adjust anything to fit a client’s needs.
• A chance to grow my portfolio with projects in different industries.
• Passive income. One template can sell over and over again. At the time, prices ranged from $19 to $129. They’re even higher now.

Back then, the application process required submitting three templates. I read all the forum advice I could find: make each template for a different niche, include e-commerce in at least one of them, and the more complex and feature-rich, the better your chances.

Honestly? I freaked out.

As someone self-taught, just beginning to build a Webflow career, the idea of submitting my work to real experts felt terrifying. I was drowning in impostor syndrome. But when I saw how much some designers were earning, I got fired up.

People were sharing on YouTube and their blogs how they were making $1,500 to $6,000 a month passively with 20-30 templates. That sounded like magic to me. I made a decision: I was going to get in. No matter what.

The Award for "Most Painful Mistakes" Goes To...

I spent the next year building — and botching — over ten templates. More than ten, because I kept starting over. I was also working full-time on Upwork, growing my freelance career (that’s a whole separate story), so my schedule was tight. Or so I told myself. In hindsight, I had enough time. What I didn’t have was structure.

And that was mistake number one.

Despite being a thoughtful planner in most areas of life, when it came to templates, I went into chaos. I’d get a random surge of inspiration late at night, open Figma, build half a structure, and start designing. Fonts, photos, color schemes. Hours would fly by, the sun would come up, and I’d crash for a couple of hours of sleep before diving into client work. Then I’d ignore the template for two weeks.

Spoiler: don’t do this.

Eventually, I’d open the file again, look at it, and go, "What on earth is this? I can do better." (Designers, you feel me?)

So I’d redo everything. Then, halfway through redesigning, I’d burn out. To mix things up, I’d jump into Webflow and start building, thinking I’d polish the design on the go. Spoiler: don’t do that either.

Another mistake? I kept trying to make huge templates right out of the gate. Multiple homepage versions, tons of CMS collections, internal pages in triplicate. Just thinking about it exhausts me now.

This inspiration–burnout loop went on for months. I’d start a new template, hoping it would finally be the one, and abandon the last halfway through. On repeat.

"Submissions Are Currently Closed"

And then, one day, I opened the application page and felt my stomach drop.

"The Webflow Template Program is currently not accepting new designers due to internal changes. We'll update this page when applications reopen."

I panicked. What if they made it harder to get in? I had wasted so much time. But when they finally reopened, the new rules were actually easier.

Now you only need to submit one template, not three. And if it got accepted, you were in. At that point, a whole year had passed since I discovered the program.

Changes, Rejections, and That One Template

With the new rules, I got excited again. I designed a cozy, warm six-page template for coaches and therapists. I submitted it and checked my inbox every day. Then the rejection came, with detailed feedback.

I fixed everything. Resubmitted. Rejected again.

Cue the screaming-into-the-forest moment.

The Day Everything Changed

By then, things on Upwork were going great. I had more breathing room. I was feeling confident. I knew Webflow inside and out after a year of juggling client work and failed templates.

And I decided: screw perfectionism.

I would build a solid, clean, well-researched landing page. Just one. I treated it like a client's job. Market research, competitor analysis, and a clear niche.

I built the full thing in Figma — with every asset, photo, icon, and headline ready — before I even opened Webflow. I followed every requirement and checked every box on the checklist.

Four days later, the template was done. I submitted it.

Three days after that, I got the email: "Your template is under review."

Five minutes later, another email:

I was in.

I screamed. My dog freaked out. We jumped and danced around the room like idiots. It was a moment.

Stripe Doesn’t Work in My Country

The celebration didn’t last long. The next email was about setting up Stripe — the only way Webflow pays out.

Except I’m from Kazakhstan. I live in Georgia (country,not state). And Stripe doesn’t work in either country.

Which meant: no Stripe, no sales.

I ended up solving it with Stripe Atlas (I'll write a separate post about that).

First Sales

Once Stripe was set up, I published the template and shared it on Behance, Dribbble, and Pinterest. That was it — no promotion, no marketing. Honestly, the goal had been just to get into the program.

So when I got my first sale a few months later, I couldn’t believe it.

Then another. And another.

Wave of Rejections

The dream was real. I started building again with new energy. Sent in a big, complex template — rejected. Another one — rejected. One more — rejected.

And yeah, that was on me. I was overwhelmed with client work and back in the old habit of working on templates "when inspired."

What I Learned (The Hard Way)

Here’s what not to do:

• Don’t work on templates randomly. Two hours a day beats one 10-hour binge.
• Don’t start building in Webflow thinking you’ll finish the design along the way. It might feel efficient at the moment, but it almost always backfires. You’ll end up tweaking endlessly, second-guessing decisions, and wasting time rebuilding what should have been clear from the start. Lock in your design first, then move to development.
• Don’t start with big, multi-page beasts.
• Don’t beat yourself up.

Looking back, I get frustrated thinking, "Why didn’t I do it right from the start?"

But the truth is — I didn’t know. Every mistake was a lesson. Every rejection taught me something.

Here’s what does work:

• Create a schedule that fits around your job or studies.
• Start with the big picture — concept, copy, layout — before opening Webflow.
• Prepare all your assets in Figma first.
• Use auto layout so Figma-to-Webflow plugins work smoothly.
• Build a master template skeleton with a full style guide and tag setup.
• Turn each accepted template into a full case study and share it.
• Don’t expect fast, easy money. This is a long game.

Final Thoughts

I’m not here to sell you a course or promise you millions in a week. I’m still building toward my goals. Maybe one day, when I have 15–20 solid templates, I’ll have something to teach.

However, if you’re starting, I hope this post saves you some time.

And if you’ve been stuck or discouraged, you’re not alone. So many of us have been there.

Be kind to yourself. And good luck out there.