United States, There's Still So Much to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My US 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. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
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, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.
I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted 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 considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
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 no intention to live, work or study in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity to maintain U.S. citizenship.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
I've been informed 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 decision, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution 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 feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.
The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I merely wish that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.