United States, There's Still Plenty to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: These Are the Reasons I'm Renouncing My American Citizenship
After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
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 "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth due to my father and centuries of ancestors before 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 to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.
I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I merely lived within America for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality 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 – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing 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 tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed within travel documents.
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 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
I've been informed that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting including extra worry about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. 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 earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost 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 choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.