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After 60 years 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. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as demonstrated by the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, those would be the opening words. 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, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers 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 role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco 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 is particularly true considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and have no plans to live, work or study 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 as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed within travel documents.

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 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 the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my decision, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, 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 performed the citizenship relinquishment – 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 received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.