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After 60 years together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided within America for two years and haven't visited for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

Authorities have indicated that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.