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After six decades together, America, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. But, America, 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" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.

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 held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – 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, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

Authorities have indicated that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause 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 about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, 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 selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.

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