Hey, I'm Mangesh.

Before I ever reviewed a hosting company, I was building the infrastructure they sell. I'm an Information Technology engineer by education — Master's degree from the University of Maharashtra — but my real education happened on the ground. For several years, I ran a network company where I managed everything from physical fiber deployment and cable termination to configuring Linux-based core routing, RADIUS authentication servers, PPPoE user management, and bandwidth shaping with QoS policies. I wasn't reading about data centers. I was inside them — racking servers, configuring load balancers, capping user bandwidth, and troubleshooting at 2 AM when a fiber cut took down 200 connections.

On the side, I was building WordPress sites for local business clients — dozens of them over the years. Every client needed hosting, and I was the one picking it. That's how I ended up testing hosting plans across shared, VPS, managed, cloud, and dedicated servers for real production sites with real traffic.

One night, I launched what I thought would be my breakthrough personal project — a small business directory for my city. I'd spent three months building it. Custom theme. 200+ business listings. Local SEO optimized. I was proud of it.

I hosted it on a cheap shared hosting plan. $2.49/month. "Unlimited everything," the sales page said. Unlimited storage. Unlimited bandwidth. Unlimited dreams.

The site went live. I shared it on local Facebook groups. Traffic started coming in — maybe 300 visitors on day one. Not viral, but real people clicking real links.

Then it crashed.

Not just slowed down. Crashed. 500 error. Database connection failed. The host had suspended my account for "excessive resource usage." Three hundred visitors was apparently too much for their "unlimited" plan.

I lost the project. Not because the code was bad. Not because the idea was bad. Because I trusted a hosting company's marketing instead of reading the Terms of Service.

That night, I did something that changed the trajectory of my career: I read the entire Terms of Service of my hosting provider. All 47 pages. And I found the clause: "CPU usage may not exceed 25% of a single core for more than 90 seconds." That's what "unlimited" meant — unlimited until you actually use it.

I was angry. And when I'm angry, I research.

Over the next six months, I read the Terms of Service and Acceptable Use Policies of over 100 hosting companies. Not skimmed — read. Line by line. I found CPU limits hidden in "Fair Use" clauses. I found bandwidth caps disguised as "network optimization policies." I found hosts that could suspend your account with zero notice for vague reasons like "impact on shared server resources."

I started a spreadsheet. Every host. Every plan. The real CPU limit. The real bandwidth cap. The intro price versus the renewal price. The money-back guarantee conditions (spoiler: most of them exclude domain fees, setup fees, and migration fees — so your "30-day money-back guarantee" actually costs you $15-$30 even if you cancel day one).

My friends thought I was insane. "Just pick a host and move on," they said. But I couldn't. Because I kept finding the same pattern everywhere:

By 2017, my spreadsheet had grown into a database. I had pricing data, CPU specs, TOS clauses, and support response times for dozens of hosts — and between my own test accounts and the plans I'd evaluated for web development clients, I'd touched hosting from over 100 companies across different data centers worldwide. But I wasn't done. I started buying even more hosting accounts myself — not to host websites, but to test them systematically. I wanted to know: what happens when you actually put a WordPress site on these servers and push traffic to it?

I bought my first batch of five hosting accounts in one month. Bluehost. HostGator. SiteGround. A2 Hosting. InMotion. $380 out of my own pocket. My wife thought I'd lost it. "You're buying hosting plans to not host anything on them?"

Yes. Exactly. Because someone had to test them, and every "review" site I found online was just rewriting the host's marketing copy with an affiliate link at the bottom.

I installed the same WordPress setup on all five. Same theme. Same plugins. Same demo content. Then I ran TTFB tests, load tests, and uptime checks for three months straight.

The results were nothing like what the review sites said.

Bluehost — which every blogger on the internet recommended as "the best for beginners" — had the worst TTFB of all five. 480ms average. HostGator was even worse at 520ms. SiteGround was genuinely fast at 110ms. A2 Hosting was fast on their Turbo tier (95ms) but terrible on their basic plan (380ms). InMotion was mediocre at 210ms.

None of this matched the reviews I'd read. Because those reviewers had never bought the plans. They'd never run a single test. They just copied SiteGround's marketing page and collected their $150 commission.

That's when I decided to build ThatMy.com.

Let me be blunt about something: the web hosting review industry is one of the most corrupt niches on the internet.

Here's how it works. A hosting company offers $150–$200 per signup as an affiliate commission. A blogger writes a "review" that's really just a rewritten version of the host's own sales page. They rank on Google. People click the affiliate link. The blogger gets $150. The reader gets a hosting plan that may or may not be any good.

The blogger has zero incentive to tell you the truth. If they tell you Bluehost is slow, they lose $150 per click. If they tell you the renewal price is 3x the intro price, fewer people sign up. If they tell you the "unlimited storage" actually has a 50GB inode limit, they make less money.

So they don't tell you.

I built ThatMy.com to be different. Not because I'm morally superior — I also earn affiliate commissions. Let me be completely transparent about that. When you click my links and sign up for hosting, I get paid. That's how this site makes money. That's how I can afford to keep buying hosting accounts and running tests.

I lose money by being honest. Literally. If I just recommended Bluehost like every other blogger, I'd earn more per click. But I'd also be sending you to a host that's objectively slower, more expensive long-term, and owned by a private equity firm (Newfold Digital) that has gutted every hosting brand they've acquired.

I'd rather make less money and sleep well at night. That's not a marketing line — that's the actual math I've done in my head at 2 AM while reading TrustPilot complaints about hosts I could be profiting from.

ThatMy.com launched in 2017. The first version was ugly. Hand-coded HTML with no CSS framework. The reviews were walls of text. But the data was real, and that's what mattered.

Over the next seven years, I rebuilt the site three times. Each rebuild was driven by the same goal: make the data easier to find and harder to ignore. The current version uses a custom data pipeline that pulls benchmark scores, pricing data, and CPU rankings into structured data. Every review page, every comparison table, every "best of" ranking is powered by real data — not opinions.

I don't just test hosting — I live on it. ThatMy.com and my other projects have been hosted on dozens of platforms over the years. Each switch taught me something. Here's the honest timeline:

When I say I "test" hosting, I mean I buy it, install WordPress, run benchmarks for months, read the TOS, search TrustPilot for complaints, check Reddit for patterns, identify the CPU model, and cross-reference it against PassMark's database of 1,190 server CPUs.

Here's what that actually looks like:

Step 1: I buy the plan with my own credit card. Not a review account. Not a press account. Not a "please test us for free" account that's secretly on their best server. I pay the same retail price you'd pay. Standard plan. Default data center. No special treatment.

Step 2: I install a clean WordPress site. Same WordPress version, same theme, same demo content, same plugins on every host. This eliminates variables. The only thing that changes between tests is the server — so when I say ScalaHosting's TTFB is 28ms and GoDaddy's is 620ms, you know it's the server making the difference, not the WordPress config.

Step 3: I run TTFB tests with no CDN and no caching. This is critical. Most speed tests on the internet are meaningless because they test with Cloudflare CDN enabled, which masks the actual server speed. My tests measure raw server performance — how fast the actual PHP/MySQL execution happens. That's the number that matters for dynamic content like WooCommerce, membership sites, and admin dashboards.

Step 4: I stress-test with Loader.io. Any server can look fast with one visitor. I want to know what happens when 50, 100, and 250 concurrent users hit the site at the same time. Shared hosting plans often crash at 50 concurrent users. VPS plans can usually handle 250. This test separates the real servers from the marketing.

Step 5: I identify the CPU and look up the PassMark ranking. Hosting companies never tell you what CPU you're actually getting. I SSH into the server, run cat /proc/cpuinfo, get the exact model (e.g., AMD EPYC 9474F), and cross-reference it with PassMark's server CPU chart. This tells me whether you're getting a 2024 flagship processor or a recycled 2016 Xeon they bought at auction.

Step 6: I read the entire Terms of Service. Every. Single. Page. I extract the real resource limits: CPU seconds allowed, inode limits, entry processes, bandwidth caps, email sending limits. This is where I find the "unlimited isn't actually unlimited" clauses that most reviewers never mention because they never read them.

Step 7: I check TrustPilot and Reddit. I search TrustPilot for 1-2 star reviews with specific keywords: "suspend," "slow," "billing," "refund," "cancel," "downtime," "scam." I search Reddit (r/webhosting, provider-specific subreddits) for complaint patterns. If 50+ people on TrustPilot report billing issues, that's a systemic problem, not individual bad luck.

Step 8: I check who owns the company. Private equity ownership matters. Newfold Digital (EIG) owns Bluehost, HostGator, and iPage. GoDaddy went through a leveraged buyout. When PE firms acquire hosting companies, they typically cut support staff, raise prices, and focus on upselling. I track this because it affects your experience 12-24 months down the road.

After 10 years in this industry, I've seen every trick. Here are the ones that make me angriest — and the ones I expose on every page of ThatMy.com:

Lie #1: "Unlimited" hosting. There's no such thing. Every shared hosting plan has CPU limits, inode limits, and bandwidth caps buried in the TOS. GoDaddy's "unlimited" plan throttles you at 1 CPU second per request. Bluehost's "unlimited" has a 200,000 inode limit. "Unlimited" is the single most deceptive word in hosting marketing, and I've dedicated entire sections of my reviews to exposing the real limits.

Lie #2: The intro price is the real price. Bluehost advertises $2.95/mo. The renewal price is $11.99/mo — a 306% increase. SiteGround goes from $2.99/mo to $17.99/mo — a 602% increase. They lock you into 36-month contracts at the intro price so you don't notice the renewal trap until three years later. On every review page, I show both prices side-by-side. No host can hide their renewal price from my readers.

Lie #3: "WordPress Recommended." WordPress.org has a "recommended hosting" page that lists Bluehost. This page has destroyed more small businesses than any single piece of advice on the internet. Bluehost is not recommended because it's the best. It's "recommended" because Bluehost pays WordPress a licensing fee. This is technically disclosed in their footer, but it's the biggest open secret in the hosting industry.

Lie #4: Fake review sites. Many top-ranking "review" sites are owned by hosting companies themselves, or by affiliate networks that prioritize commission rates over accuracy. I've seen sites that rank Bluehost #1 in every single category — #1 best shared hosting, #1 best WordPress hosting, #1 best cheap hosting, #1 best hosting for small business. It's mathematically impossible for one host to be the best at everything. But it's financially possible when Bluehost pays $150+ per signup.

Lie #5: "99.9% uptime guaranteed." 99.9% uptime sounds impressive until you do the math: that's 8.7 hours of downtime per year. And the "guarantee" is usually a credit — not a refund. If your host is down for 2 hours, your SLA credit might be $0.12. You lost $500 in revenue. But hey, here's your twelve cents.

Alright, here's the resume version for anyone who needs the formal credentials. I know Google's Quality Raters care about this stuff, and frankly, you should too — you're trusting me with your hosting decision, which is a financial decision.

Full transparency — here's exactly what I pay for and use every month. I believe if you recommend something, you should use it yourself. If I wouldn't host my own revenue-generating site on it, I won't recommend it to you.

I've been in this industry for a decade. I've made every mistake possible. Here are the ones that cost me the most money, time, or sanity — and what I learned from each one:

Mistake #1: I recommended SiteGround for too long. When SiteGround migrated to Google Cloud in 2020, performance became inconsistent. Some servers were fast. Others weren't. I should have re-tested immediately and updated my recommendations. Instead, I waited three months. During those three months, readers signed up on my recommendation and got stuck with 36-month contracts at a host that was no longer the best. I still feel bad about that. Now I re-test every host every quarter, no exceptions.

Mistake #2: I trusted a host's marketing for my own site. My first hosting disaster (the business directory crash in 2016) happened because I believed "unlimited" without reading the TOS. I was a tech professional with a Master's degree. If I fell for it, anyone can. That humiliation fuels every TOS analysis I do today.

Mistake #3: I didn't diversify my recommendations early enough. For about a year (2017-2018), SiteGround was my #1 pick in almost every category. Sound familiar? That's the same pattern I criticize other reviewers for. The truth is, different hosts are best for different needs. ScalaHosting is best for VPS. ChemiCloud is best for shared hosting beginners. Cloudways is best for developers. Kinsta is best for enterprise WordPress. I should have been more nuanced from the start.

Mistake #4: I ignored shared hosting for too long. As I moved into VPS and cloud hosting, I stopped paying attention to shared hosting. "It's all garbage," I thought. But most beginners start on shared hosting — and they deserve honest guidance about which $3/mo plan won't ruin their project. I rebuilt my shared hosting reviews in 2024 with the same rigor I apply to VPS reviews. Budget hosting deserves honest data too.

Mistake #5: I wrote reviews without testing. Early ThatMy.com had some reviews based on secondhand data — industry reputation, other reviewers' benchmarks, general sentiment. I've since rewritten every one of those pages with first-party test data. If I haven't bought the plan and tested it myself, I'll tell you that explicitly. "I haven't tested this host yet" is a more honest sentence than a fake review based on the host's marketing page.

Some hosting companies offer $150–$200 per signup. I turn them down because the product doesn't pass my tests. Here are the hosts I refuse to recommend, and exactly why:

Bluehost — Owned by Newfold Digital (private equity). 480ms average TTFB in my tests. Renewal price: $11.99/mo (306% increase from intro). 4,200+ 1-star reviews on TrustPilot. WordPress.org "recommends" them because Bluehost pays a licensing fee, not because they're good. They'd pay me $150+ per signup. I'll pass.

GoDaddy — 620ms TTFB (worst I've tested). Aggressive upselling during checkout — domain privacy, SEO tools, email marketing, all auto-checked. Went through a leveraged buyout in 2011 and the quality has been on a downward trajectory since. Their "managed WordPress" plan uses a stripped-down custom dashboard that limits what you can do with your own site.

HostGator — Also owned by Newfold Digital. 520ms TTFB. Same infrastructure as Bluehost (literally same parent company, same data centers). The reviews are slightly better on TrustPilot, but the product is functionally identical to Bluehost. Different brand name, same PE-backed cost-cutting.

HostPapa — Renewal prices increase 400%+. The intro price of $2.95/mo becomes $12.99/mo. Their "Business" plan renewal is $15.99/mo for what is still basic shared hosting. TrustPilot shows a pattern of billing complaints and difficulty canceling. Commission is decent. Product isn't.

ThatMy.com is always evolving. Here's what I'm focused on right now:

More comparison pages. Readers tell me the head-to-head comparisons (like Cloudways vs Kinsta and ScalaHosting vs SiteGround) are the most helpful content on the site. I'm building more of them — including ScalaHosting vs Contabo for VPS buyers and cPanel vs SPanel for people wondering about control panel alternatives.

Expanded country-specific recommendations. Hosting performance varies dramatically by location. A host that's fast from New York might be terrible from Mumbai or São Paulo. I'm building out recommendations for India, Brazil, Indonesia, Australia, and other markets where local server proximity matters.

Real-time pricing tracking. Hosting companies change their prices constantly — sometimes without any announcement. I'm building a data pipeline that monitors pricing pages and alerts me when intro or renewal prices change, so every page on ThatMy.com always shows current numbers.

Video benchmarks. I've been publishing written benchmark data for years. In 2026, I'm starting to produce video walkthroughs of my testing process — so you can literally watch me run a TTFB test, SSH into a server to check the CPU, and pull up the TOS to find the hidden limits. Transparency at the next level.

More reviews of newer hosts. The hosting landscape is shifting. Newer companies like Rapyd Cloud and independent VPS providers are challenging the old guard. I'm expanding my test coverage to include hosts that didn't exist when I started. The best host in 2026 might not even be on my radar yet — and that excites me.

I read every email and comment. If you're stuck deciding between two hosts, or if you think I got something wrong in a review, I want to hear from you.

Best way to reach me: Comment on the most relevant review or comparison page. I respond to comments directly, and your question might help someone else with the same problem.

For business inquiries: Use the contact page. If you're a hosting company that wants me to review your product — I'll buy the plan myself, test it, and publish the results. No pay-to-play. No guaranteed positive coverage. If your product is good, the data will show it. If it's not, I'll say so.

For press / interviews: I'm happy to talk about the hosting industry, testing methodology, or the problems with affiliate-driven review content. Reach out via the contact page.

You've read 2,000+ words about hosting. You deserve to know I'm an actual human being with a life outside of server benchmarks.

I'm based in India — originally from Maharashtra, now working remotely. The time zone means I'm often testing servers at 3 AM while the US data centers are quiet. It also means I have first-hand experience with hosting latency from South Asia — which is why my India-specific recommendations focus heavily on server location and regional TTFB data.

I'm a cricket fan. Not the casual kind. The "rearrange my testing schedule around IPL matches" kind. If you notice fewer articles published in April-May, you know why.

I've been inside more server rooms than most reviewers have seen in photos. Running a network company meant physically deploying fiber, racking servers, and configuring infrastructure at the ground level. My journalism background later took me to cloud computing and data center events across Europe and Asia. When I review a hosting provider's "redundant infrastructure" claims, I know exactly what real redundancy looks like — because I've built it. I've handled cable management, configured load balancers, and monitored server health dashboards at 3 AM during outages. It changes how you evaluate hosting when you've physically touched the hardware.

My wife still thinks I'm crazy for spending $200/month on hosting accounts I don't use to host anything. But she also gets why I do it. When a reader emails saying "I almost signed up for Bluehost but your review saved me $300 in the first year," that $200/month feels like a pretty good investment.

I drink way too much chai. Like, an embarrassing amount. My testing setup involves two monitors, a terminal running SSH sessions to five different hosts, a spreadsheet with PassMark rankings, and a cup of chai that's been cold for 45 minutes because I got distracted by a TrustPilot review thread about Hostinger's suspension policies.

That's me. A chai-drinking, cricket-watching, TOS-reading hosting nerd from India who built a review site because he was angry about being lied to by a $2.49/month hosting plan in 2016.

If that sounds like someone you'd trust with your hosting decision, then let's find you a host that actually delivers.