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After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

From your breathtaking national parks, 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 capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" 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 plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived in the United States for two years and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that eventually 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 decision, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting including extra worry regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.