It's sad but true.

I relate to the plucky heroine in ABC's "Ugly Betty" a lot more than I'd like to admit.

And I'm not talking about her good traits.

Growing up with untamed hair, skinned knees and a warped fashion sense, I know what it feels like to cling to the fringe, to play the duckling to the swans.

It's not fun.

Luckily, I knew my way around a good joke. Had it not been for my sense of humor — and ability to laugh at myself — I doubt I would've survived sixth grade.

Still, it sucks to stick out.

It's particularly hard in high school, when all you want is to be accepted.

You sat in the designated spot in the cafeteria during lunch. You avoided eye contact with the weird guy in chem lab. And you never, ever sided with your best friend's ex-boyfriend, no matter how psycho she was.

But as much as we'd like to believe we're so over high school, not much changes in adulthood.

It's just a different campus.

The cliques are still there — The Populars, The Jocks, The Geeks, The Granolas, The Weirdos — just in adult form.

They're around the water cooler, at the gym, in the clubs, in line at Foodland.

True, some things have changed.

The Geeks who now pull down six-figure salaries and live in spacious homes with ocean views have made the leap to The Populars.

And The Jocks who ditched the protein shakes for katsu-curry-gravy-all-over, well, we all know what happened to them.

But the game is still played the same: If you don't fit into one group — you don't make enough money or know the right people — you're left on the sidelines, pathetically gazing into a life that you can't have, into a world that doesn't want you.

OK, so I'm being melodramatic. But you get the point.

We live in a superficial world, where the brand of your handbag can matter more than your work ethic, where who you know is often more important than what you know.

It's frustrating — but not unexpected. In life, as generations of parents have said, fairness is more of an exception, not the rule.

This is why we need to channel our inner Betty.

She's the awkward, poncho-wearing, bright-eyed optimist in a cut-throat world ruled by Jimmy Choo and Juicy Couture.

Does she care?

No.

Does she wilt under the harsh glare of fashionistas?

Hardly.

Instead, she throws up her chin — not her fists — and proves that character is built from the inside out.

So the next time you feel like a gawky teenager in a room full of Prada-wearing corporates, just remember:

You can only be yourself.

And if they don't like it, feel free to wear a poncho to prove it.

Reach Catherine E. Toth at ctoth@honoluluadvertiser.com. Read her daily blog at blogs.honoluluadvertiser.com.