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After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, 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 unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, 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 contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere 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.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study in the US again. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity 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 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 tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause 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 would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.

The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – 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 about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.