USA, I Still Find So Much to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My American Citizenship
After 60 years together, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, 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, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
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 "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.
I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided within America 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'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, although not residing or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves 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 American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. 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. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I merely wish that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.