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After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery due to my father and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride 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 a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided within America for two years and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity to maintain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – including 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 connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range 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.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause 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 could result in travel 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 an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.