I too struggled with this lack-of-line-in-the-sky business, finding it difficult to translate Stellarium (and others) into the actual sky. I can only reiterate what I said in an earlier post, the technique that worked for me - starting with the zodiacal constellations as a baseline. I based everything off the vernal equinox - March 21st, when the Sun is on the celestial equator and in the Constellation of Pisces. In my mind, I imagined what I would see if I kept facing east-ish as the year progressed, watching each zodiacal constellation rise over the horizon. In order, I would see:
Pisces
Aries
Taurus
Gemini
Cancer
Leo
Virgo
Libra
Scorpius
Sagittarius
Capricornus
Aquarius
I worked to memorize that sequence before even looking at the sky, so I could recite it without effort. Doing so also helped me realize a few other things. First - they're the hours of right ascension. Pisces (00), Aries (02), Taurus (04), etc, so I can easily estimate the RA for objects in the sky simply by noting what zodiacal constellations they're closest to. Then I realized that the vernal equinox (00h) is followed by summer solstice (06h), autumnal equinox (12h) and winter solstice (18h), so that meant that the Sun was in Gemini, Virgo, and Sagittarius respectively at each of those periods. So if the Sun is in Sagittarius at the winter solstice, for example, then it's opposite number (18h-12h=6h), Gemini, would be prominent in the winter nighttime sky. And, of course, it is. Vice versa for the summer solstice, when the Sun is in Capricornus and Sagittarius can be seen in the evening sky.
None of what I just wrote is essential to learn the constellations, but it just fell out of that base principle of starting with the twelve (thirteen if poor Ophiuchus is included...) zodiacal constellations and trying to understand the patterns of movement all around me. Why those? Because any time you go out at night and look up, no matter what time of year, at least three of them are always present, one of which should be an equinox/solstice constellation, Pisces, Gemini, Virgo, or Sagittarius.
As for the constellations themselves - shrinking your list down from the 44 northern (or southern) constellations down to 12, for the time being at least, gives you a good starting point. This is where having ruthlessly memorized the order comes in handy, for when you spot one (Gemini, for instance), you know that Taurus and Cancer must be on either side. The Hyades of Taurus, not to mention the Pleiades, are easy to spot, but Cancer isn't an easy one to see, at least from the city. And that's okay, because just beyond it lies Leo - so even though you may not be able to see Cancer, you know where it must lie if you can see both Gemini and Leo. And from there, of course, find M44.
Before the pandemic, I used to love doing star parties - either the formal ones or just some sidewalk astronomy with friends. It's pretty cool when you can ask people what they want to see - "Do you want to see a dying star (planetary nebula)? Do you want to see an exploding snowball (glob)? Or would you rather see a galaxy eating another galaxy (M51)?" When they pick one, and you just manually swing your scope from one point of the sky to another, without goto, and after a few seconds peering through a Telrad and/or eyepieces, turn to them and say "Have a look..." - all that time spent memorizing and struggling to recognize patterns really feels worth it.
Another technique I stumbled on that really helped, was to just take a photo of the night sky with a DSLR. I doesn't have to be fancy, but shutter open long enough to get the main stars that you see when you look naked eye. Then, in your photo editor of choice, manually draw your own constellation lines. Here's an example of one I did a few years ago, and it really helps to be able to spot those patterns:
https://www.astrobin.com/234883/
Of course, everyone is different and has their own way of learning. This is just what worked for me.
Stu