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After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded 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 distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, 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 "accidental American" since birth due to my father and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, 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 in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived within America for two years and haven't visited for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing or employed there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that impose taxation 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, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

Authorities have indicated that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad 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 constitutes inefficient resource allocation. 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. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.