America, There's Still So Much to Love About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: These Are the Reasons 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 romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, 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 enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as demonstrated by the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, 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 experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; 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 to the nation. This is particularly true considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity to maintain American nationality.
Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – 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 procedure represents highly challenging and complex 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 on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.
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 about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.
A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.