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After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because there remains much to admire about you.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" since birth due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I experience deep honor in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; 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 alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement to maintain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, although not residing or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.

The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.