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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 the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs 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 met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

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 "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, 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. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I merely lived 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 no intention to live, work or study 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 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. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.