United States, I Still Find So Much to Adore About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My American Citizenship
After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
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 environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth due to my father and ten generations preceding 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 to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.
I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected with the country. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided within America 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 to maintain U.S. citizenship.
Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
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 high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, 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 circumstances and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I merely wish that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.