The first storybook character that I remember identifying with was Very Worried Walrus of the Sweet Pickles Gang. Not that I didn’t pretend to be princesses, scullery maids, and everything in between. But I remember really understanding Walrus, really feeling his pain.
When I get nervous about something — to give myself some credit, it’s usually something life-altering (although I still can’t ride a bike ;-) — I still think about Walrus. What if I fall off the bike? What then?