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After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished 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.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as demonstrated by the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

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 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.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived in the United States for two years and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and have no plans to reside, employment or education in the US again. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas 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 fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.