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After six decades together, America, 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, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth due to my father and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century including military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; 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 given the perplexing 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. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain 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 submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists 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 procedure represents highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

Authorities have indicated that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. 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 basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.