America, There's Still So Much to Adore About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My US Citizenship
After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because there remains much to admire about you.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
Were I drafting a farewell message to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, 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 father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and no intention to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity to maintain American nationality.
Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
Authorities have indicated that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry 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, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.