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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. I'm leaving by choice, 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 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 appears limitless, as demonstrated by the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "accidental American" since birth due to my father and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I experience deep honor in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected with the country. This is particularly true considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning 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.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

Authorities have indicated that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

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 circumstances and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.