United States, I Still Find So Much to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship
After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. 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 magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century 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 toward central and western regions.
I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought with the military overseas during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected 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 "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't visited 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. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, although not residing or employed there or eligible for services, 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 tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented in our passport backs.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary 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, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
Authorities have indicated that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. 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 decision, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting including extra worry about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.
The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.
A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.