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After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished 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

From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies 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 motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery because of my paternal lineage 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 toward central and western regions.

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 as a Marine in France during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and no intention to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates 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 process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals 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 would mean that visiting including extra worry about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents 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 finalize the procedure.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.