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After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, 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 between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, 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.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century 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 experience deep honor in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. 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 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 live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement to maintain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing or employed there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, 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

I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

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 finalize the procedure.

The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.

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 future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.