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After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. 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.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

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 vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. 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, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 and featuring 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 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 as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years 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 to maintain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

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 decision, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

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 during the official questioning about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.