America, I Still Find Plenty to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up My US Citizenship
After 60 years together, America, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, 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 ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "accidental American" since birth due to my father 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, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.
I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, 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 what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't visited for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working 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 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, but preparation expenses range 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.
Compliance Concerns and Final Decision
Authorities have indicated 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.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.
A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved when I decide to visit again.