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After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, 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 there remains much to admire about you.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees 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 ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message 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 centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, 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 father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived within America for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

Authorities have indicated that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.