America, I Still Find Plenty to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship
After six decades together, United States, 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 there remains much to admire about you.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings 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 encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership 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 dad grew up during the Great Depression; his grandfather served with the military overseas during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't returned 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. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.
Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – 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.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, 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 extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
Authorities have indicated that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress 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 due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.