United States, There's Still 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, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey 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 in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran for political office.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing 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.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and no intention to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.
Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
I've been informed that eventually 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 all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.
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 constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel including extra worry about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.
The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.
Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I merely wish that future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.