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After 60 years together, America, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of 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 "accidental American" since birth due to my father and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring 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 to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived within America a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and no intention to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.

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. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals 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 of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved when I decide to visit again.