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After 60 years 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. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas during the first world war; 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.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided within America for two years and haven't visited for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship 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 for me to retain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that implement levies 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, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.

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 represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.