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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 you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies 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 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, seasonal squash dessert, 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" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his grandfather served with the military overseas during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco 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 with the country. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't visited for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and no intention to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

Authorities have indicated that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines 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 recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand 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 canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.