United States, I Still Find So Much to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My American Citizenship
After 60 years together, United States, 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, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, 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 ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership plus multiple eras of settlers 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 during the Great Depression; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; 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 given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I merely lived in the United States a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to reside, employment or education in the US again. 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 as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. 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 documented in our passport backs.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., 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 highly challenging and complex to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
I've been informed 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 all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.
Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.