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After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. 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 will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery due to my father and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 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 feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't visited 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 won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity to maintain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

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 high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. 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 creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I understand 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 obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I merely wish that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.