USA, I Still Find So Much to Love About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My US Citizenship
After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. 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, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. 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 been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 including military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.
I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran for political office.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This is particularly true given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate 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.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Furthermore, the obligation 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 only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad 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 basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, 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 performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.