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After 60 years together, America, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests 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 evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers 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 with the military overseas in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco 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 considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. 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've only resided within America a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement to maintain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed 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 for straightforward declarations, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. 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 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. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.