America, There's Still Plenty to Adore About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up My US Citizenship
After 60 years together, America, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.
I experience deep honor in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco 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 considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. 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 a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and have no plans 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 American nationality.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
Authorities have indicated that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad need to meet requirements.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.
The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction 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 voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.