USA, I Still Find Plenty to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My American Citizenship
After 60 years together, America, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished 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 brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
Were I drafting a farewell message to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.
I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran for political office.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement to maintain U.S. citizenship.
Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Compliance Concerns and Final Decision
I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension 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 earnestly attempt to obtain. 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 featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward 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 simply hope that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.