USA, I Still Find Plenty to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My American 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, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, 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, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, 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 dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate 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 within America for two years and haven't returned for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. And I'm confident 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 file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually 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 eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad need to meet requirements.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, 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 including extra worry about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution 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 feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.
The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.