After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded 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.
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species 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 seems boundless, as demonstrated by the motivational people 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. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Were I drafting a farewell message to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, 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 in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought with the military overseas during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.
I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and no intention to live, work or study in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed in our passport backs.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Authorities have indicated that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, 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 about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.
A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.
Lena is a passionate gamer and tech writer, specializing in indie games and esports coverage.