America, There's Still Plenty to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship
After six decades together, America, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees 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 seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, 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, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 including 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 experience deep honor in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; 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 rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran for political office.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected 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 recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. 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 for straightforward declarations, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
I've been informed that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad need to meet requirements.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, 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 – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.