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After six decades together, America, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, 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 amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century 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 experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city 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 to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and no intention to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident 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 based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

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 every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

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 constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, 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 – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.