USA, There's Still Plenty to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: 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. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.
I experience deep honor in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up 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 great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. 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.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided within America for two years and haven't returned in nearly a decade. 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 American nationality.
Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.
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 decision, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates 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.
Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – 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 honestly respond negatively.
Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.