Where’s My Village: Why Is It So Hard to Make New Mum Friends?
There I was, standing in the playground clutching my coffee while my toddler clung to my leg. Around me, clusters of mums chatted in easy rhythm, laughter flowing between strollers and their children playing. I wondered, where did they meet? Have they been friends for years? I smiled, made eye contact, and then looked down again. It felt like being in school all over: wanting to belong, unsure how to start, and quietly wondering if anyone else felt just as awkward.
Motherhood is often described as a sisterhood, a village, a community of women holding one another up. And while that sounds beautiful in theory, the reality can feel different. Making new mum friends, the kind who truly see you, can feel like climbing a hill in flip-flops: exhausting, uncertain, and harder than it should be.
Because somewhere between the chaos of feeding schedules, nap times, and trying to remember who you were before all this, the space for new friendship starts to feel small. You want connection, but you’re not sure where to find it, or if you even have the energy for it anymore.
By Alice Codford
The Connection Paradox
What’s strange is that it’s technically easier than ever to stay connected. We can send a quick text, drop a comment on an Instagram story or post, or scroll through updates from people all over the world. And yet, somehow, we’re seeing less of each other face-to-face. Technology has made it simple to keep in touch, but maybe it’s also made it easier to avoid showing up. Why make small talk at the park when you can just watch everyone’s lives unfold through a screen? We know more, but feel less known. There’s a quiet ache in that, especially for mothers. Because in this season of life, we don’t just want connection. We need it too.
Why does this feel so hard? Motherhood reorganises your entire world, your time, your priorities, your sense of self. The friendships that once fit so easily may not fit so well anymore. And new friendships take time and energy, two things that are already in short supply.
Even when the opportunity is right there, it’s complicated. You might meet a mum you genuinely click with, but just as the conversation starts to flow, you glance at the clock and realise you need to rush home before nap time. Because nap time is sacred, your only window to breathe, eat, or simply exist. So you pack up early, promising to text soon. And sometimes you do. Sometimes you don’t. It’s not that you don’t want friendship, it’s that the balance feels impossible. Stay and risk an overtired meltdown, or go and miss a chance at connection? Either way, you feel like you can’t win.
“And maybe the “village” we keep hearing about isn’t a big group chat or mum circle. Maybe it’s one or two women who show up, imperfectly, inconsistently, but honestly.”
What most of us are longing for isn’t just another playdate or someone to have a coffee with, it’s to be understood. To have someone who gets the exhaustion in your eyes, the pride in your child’s new word, and the strange loneliness of loving your family deeply while also missing pieces of yourself.
We crave laughter that isn’t drowned out by toy music. We crave adult conversation that doesn’t start with, “How’s sleep going?” and end with, “We’re teething again.” We crave a reminder that behind the nappies and laundry, we’re still us.
How We Can We Make New Friends?
Maybe the connection starts smaller than we think. Saying “hi” even when it feels awkward. Reaching out to another mum and admitting, “I’m craving adult conversations, want to get together sometime?” Sometimes it’s as simple, and as brave, as that. It takes courage to reach out and patience to keep trying. New friendships in motherhood often grow slowly, in the spaces between naps and a busy life. But slow doesn’t mean less real. And maybe the “village” we keep hearing about isn’t a big group chat or mum circle. Maybe it’s one or two women who show up, imperfectly, inconsistently, but honestly.
The truth is that this season of life just makes connections look different. It’s messy, interrupted, and often unfinished, like so much of motherhood itself. Some friendships happen in five-minute playground chats, others over late-night texts while we rock our babies back to sleep.
It might not look like the easy friendships we had before, but there’s still beauty in it. Because every small moment, every “me too,” every wave hello across the playground, is a stitch in something larger. We may not always find our village all at once, but we’re building it quietly, one brave hello at a time.
By Alice Codford
