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After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because there remains much to admire about you.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people 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, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.

I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected with the country. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "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 maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study in the US again. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted 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 on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only 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 fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation 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 keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved when I decide to visit again.