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After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded 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.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights 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 revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. But, America, 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 been what's termed an "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.

I experience deep honor in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This is particularly true given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. 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 within America for two years and haven't returned for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and have no plans to reside, employment or education in the US again. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad need to meet requirements.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. 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 for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. 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, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.