“I’m a creep / I’m a weirdo” are lyrics you used to faintly hear from the person sitting next to you donning side bangs and Dr. Martens. Yesterday’s emo tweens had “Creep” by Radiohead, and today’s social outcasts have Audrey Hobert — pop music’s very own Sue Heck.

As an off-putting redhead who cannot stop listening to “Thirst Trap” and has been compared to Sue Heck on multiple occasions, I feel uniquely qualified to write this installment of “Femininomenon.”

Hobert’s debut album, “Who’s the Clown?,” released in August, three months after “Sue me,” its lead single, went viral on TikTok; the track currently has over 30 million streams on Spotify. The song’s catchy beat and biting lyrics lend themselves to repeat listens: “I’m sorry that your dog died / Sorry that I’m like your dream bride / You’ll go to heaven, and I’ll go to hell in the meantime.”

The music video for “Sue me” features Hobert pirouetting in her room, flailing around the floor of an office while a clown reviews paperwork, and rolling out her own red carpet in the school hallway. Throughout the video, she dances clumsily and makes exaggerated facial expressions, which quickly garnered internet mockery upon the song’s release. But aside from being a little weird, what has she done to merit real criticism? Hobert is just having fun.

Granted, she has received some warranted pushback for being labeled an “industry plant.” While that term has become such a buzzword that it is now almost devoid of all meaning, the descriptor isn’t entirely incorrect, given Hobert’s path to stardom. Her brother is musician Malcolm Todd, while her father, Tim Hobert, was an executive producer for “Scrubs,” “Community” and “The Middle.”

Hobert acknowledges her proximity to fame on “Who’s the Clown?” with “Chateau,” singing, “I don’t care that I’m at the Chateau with the whole A-list.” Being a nepo baby doesn’t make her altogether untalented; perhaps it makes her music more nuanced.

In fact, despite her glamorous upbringing, Hobert’s lyrics are generally relatable. The album is abuzz with pop culture references, with songs named after “Sex and the City” and Phoebe Buffay from “Friends.” You don’t have to be the child of a big-time Hollywood producer to relate to an underwhelming night out or having unrequited feelings for someone.

Most of Hobert’s songs sound off-the-cuff, as if she’s ad-libbing lyrics on the fly. Her unrelenting honesty is genuinely funny, something that’s been missing from pop music in recent years — think “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F)” by Katy Perry or “TiK ToK” by Kesha. Hobert sings about the horrors of realizing you left a candle on while you’re at a party or, even worse, the guy you came home with forgetting to make you a pizza pocket.

That isn’t to say “Who’s the Clown” isn’t off-putting to many listeners — after all, the album’s first track is titled “I like to touch people.” But Hobert’s uniqueness doesn’t make her impossible to connect with either. She sings about experiences that we can all relate to but don’t like to talk about, such as reconnecting with an ex, experiencing FOMO or making thirst traps.

This certainly doesn’t mean that Hobert’s music is for everyone. “Who’s the Clown?” is about feeling like Phoebe in a group of Monicas and Rachels. It’s dancing in your room with a hairbrush and wishing you stayed home from a house party. It’s for the Sue Hecks of the world — yes, that Sue Heck, from Hobert’s dad’s show, “The Middle.”

Heck, much like Hobert, is known for being endearingly awkward. Heck is an adorkable oddball; she remains an optimist despite frequent rejection from both her peers and her family, and her dancing wouldn’t be out of place in one of Hobert’s music videos. Partially due to her dad’s role on the show, Hobert has been compared to Heck, and there’s definitely a resemblance.

Both Hobert and Heck are certifiably strange, but they’re not manic pixie dream girls, à la Clementine Kruczynski from “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” (2004) or Alaska Young from “Looking for Alaska.” They’re weird in a subversive enough way that makes them targets for derision when all they’ve done is be themselves. And when they do seek attention from men, it’s never viewed as the basis of their entire personality.

Maybe the reason why many listeners feel unsettled by Hobert, or viewers cringe during Heck’s scenes, is that the two aren’t trying to mold their quirks into socially acceptable idiosyncrasies. Hobert and Heck aren’t going to change who they are simply because you’re not a fan. That kind of unapologetic uniqueness is considered blasphemous by a society that forces women to suppress certain parts of their personality to be likable.

“The Middle” is no longer on the air, but Hobert is set to begin touring in October. I, for one, can’t wait to see what she does next. And I’m selfishly hoping her next album will contain a Sue Heck tribute.

Fiona Feingold is a junior writing about women in the entertainment industry in her column, “Femininomenon,” which runs every other Friday.