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After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. 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 you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, 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 the United States, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage 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 toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I merely lived within America for two years and haven't visited for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, although not residing or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad 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 fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

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 choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.