America, There's Still Plenty to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My US Citizenship
After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, 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.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.
I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.
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 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.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
I merely lived in the United States for two years 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. And I'm confident 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, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Compliance Concerns and Final Decision
I've been informed that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.
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 represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting 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 an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees 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 regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.
A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization will be approved when I decide to visit again.