How did you get into comedy?
Initially I wanted to be a comedy actress, so at 18 I went off to drama school and loved it, but I graduated into a recession. There was very little work and acting agents were nervous about signing new clients. I was totally gutted. Then a friend suggested I try standup. From my first gig (in a dingy basement to 12 people), I was utterly hooked.

Who did you admire when you were starting out?
I have always loved French and Saunders, as a teenager I was obsessed. When I started standup, I admired people who I would see on the circuit, people ripping gigs like Kerry Godliman, Tom Allen and Zoe Lyons. I went up to the Edinburgh festival and saw acts doing incredible one-hour shows like James Acaster, Bridget Christie or Sara Pascoe. I was totally inspired from seeing great comedy shows. I still am.

What inspired your show, Snappy, which is now streaming?
The jumping-off point was anxiety and parenting, and anxiety about parenting. I am a storytelling comic so themes in my shows have generally happened to me, whether that’s embarrassing myself in front of a Spice Girl, ruining family get-togethers or accidentally breaking into a flat with my dad. You get the gist.

Where do you find material?
My family are pretty good for material. My uncle recently described a meal as being so hot “it gave his arsehole a black eye”. Is that too rude for the Guardian? I always think if a story is good enough to share at the pub, I will give it a go on stage.

What’s been one of your all-time favourite gigs?
Probably the first time I did Live at the Apollo, which was a TV show I grew up watching and it was my biggest ambition to one day be booked for. To take part in that show and have a great gig was honestly such a thrill. I am not embarrassed to say when I came off stage I cried with joy and relief.

Your upcoming show, The Juggle, is about balancing different expectations of you. What do you hope audiences take from it?
It’s good to try hard at things. It’s OK to get things wrong (even if it’s accidentally poisoning your neighbours). Also navigating internet trolls, why I can’t get on board with space travel while kids are still going to school hungry, and that being a comedian is actually a bit of an ick – and lots more. (I promise it’s really funny.)

Any bugbears from the world of comedy?
When people say, “You can’t say anything any more!” You absolutely can, and many of the people saying the very worst things have comedy specials on the globe’s biggest streaming platforms.

What have you learned from standup?
That people respond well to vulnerability and honesty. Oh, and a pretty good knowledge of the UK’s motorway services. Best? Tebay, by miles.

You’re in the back of a black cab. The driver asks, ‘What do you do?’ You say, ‘Comedian.’ They say, ‘Tell me a joke then.’ What do you say?
I would never tell a cab driver I am a comedian. I always lie, I once told a cabby I was the assistant stage manager for the Lion King, then improvised the whole way home about how the different puppets work.

Can you recall a gig so bad, it’s now funny?
Following a raffle at a charity show, after a drag queen – and the audience were stood (it really is better if they are seated). I got through my 20-minute set, checked my watch and I had only done seven minutes. I was so new I didn’t have any other material, so I just had to riff for another 13 minutes. I could not get out of the venue quick enough.

Any preshow rituals?
I pace. I am a big pacer.

Do you have any regrets?
Non, je ne regrette rien … well, apart from every time I have ever embarrassed myself.

Snappy is out now. Suzi Ruffell’s memoir Am I Having Fun Now? is out on 5 June. The Juggle is on tour from 5 June.