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After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

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 appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.

I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned 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 given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't visited for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, 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 tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals 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 constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage 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, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

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