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After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth 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 toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought 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; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing 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. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to reside, employment or education in the US again. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement to maintain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working 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 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 between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

Authorities have indicated that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents 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 intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – 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 voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.