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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. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, because there remains much to admire about you.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, 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 seems boundless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. 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, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring 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 regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to reside, employment or education in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity to maintain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel including extra worry about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. 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 recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.