I didn’t realise how much I’d been hiding behind my buggy until my children outgrew it. For years, that pram was both shield and crutch: a visible justification for why I was too exhausted for small talk, too distracted for new friendships and too busy changing nappies to worry too much about my place in the world.

But as I emerged from the fog of nappies, naps and night feeds, with three children in school and a career that I love, I found myself facing an unexpected vulnerability. Who was I without the buggy? Where did I fit in? This question is central to Amandaland, the BBC comedy series whose title character is brash yet anxious, self-conscious yet bold. The opening scene sees Amanda proudly proclaim that she’s a ‘people person’ whose people are ‘people people’. I’ve always been more of a happy introvert myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand how important it is to find other parents to bond with.

I have three children, now aged seven, 10 and 11. In raising them, I’ve experienced first-hand how – from NCT and playgroups through to the school gates and sports sidelines – parents must constantly recalibrate to new social contexts. The merry-go-round is always moving, and with so much to contend with, I understand Amanda’s struggle to forge connections to help her through it.

Loneliness is more prevalent in new parenthood than in the general population, with 43% of mothers under the age of 30 feeling alone all of the time. Parents are also more stretched than ever, balancing parenthood, children, relationships and work with an attempt to fulfil their own needs. According to a recent Bubble survey, nine in 10 parents don’t get to spend as much time with their partner as they’d like, the consequences of which ripple through family life.

Amanda’s endless attempts to make friends and impress strangers make for toe-curling TV, but they strike an all-too-familiar chord. As parents, we don’t just navigate our children’s evolving needs, we also wrestle with our own sense of belonging. Entering into parenthood is very much like walking into the playground for the first time. We must work to find our strengths, our style and our tribe. We all want to be loved and popular, but just like in childhood, this can’t always be the case, and we often get it wrong. 

It took me about eight years to let go of preconceived notions of the ‘perfect mum’ and to focus on what worked for me and my family. As soon as I did, life became infinitely easier. I’d imagined I’d be the mother who read the classics to my children. Instead, I’m the one enthusiastically discussing manga and spending weekends being the hype man at karate.

Once upon a time, I thought I’d be relaxed about spending every waking moment with my children. I love them dearly, but much like Amanda, I need the occasional break. While she asks her mother, Felicity, to watch the kids, I’ll happily book a babysitter so my husband and I can enjoy a night out. But quite unlike Felicity, my babysitters are reliable, kind and always arrive on time.

Of course, finding your feet as a parent is not an easy process. The pressure to be the ‘right’ kind of parent is relentless, and judgment lurks around every corner. Every choice – from how we respond to the nits epidemic (calling all Motherland fans) to how much screen time we allow – feels like a battleground. But finding confidence in your own parenting approach (and yourself) means you’re less likely to end up like Amanda, taking magic mushrooms in a hot tub with strangers in an attempt to bond.

What Amandaland ultimately underscores is the importance of finding your community. The reality of modern parenting is that we need friends who won’t just politely nod at the school gates but will rescue us when we forget to charge our electric car (Amanda) or reassure us that it’s OK that we took our child to school on an inset day and left them waiting in the school office for hours (me).

It’s these friendships – the real, unvarnished, judgment-free ones – that make parenthood less daunting and infinitely more joyful. The irony is that Amanda spends so much time trying to impress people that she misses what’s right in front of her. Her people – her real community – who were there all along.

Finding where you belong doesn’t mean striving to fit in; it means embracing the messy, imperfect reality of who you already are.

In the end, we all have a little bit of Amanda in us. She’s audacious, brave, irritating and insecure. But she’s also trying her best. Aren’t we all.

Sarah Hesz is a director at Bubble, a childcare app that helps parents find and book trusted local sitters