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After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship 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 – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

Authorities have indicated that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines 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 decision, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.

The threatening formal photograph 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 about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved when I decide to visit again.