USA, There's Still Plenty to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up 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, 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 distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as evidenced through 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, fruit preserves. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.
I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed 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 feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Now I desire to create distance.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I merely lived within America a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, 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 undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Compliance Concerns and Final Decision
I've been informed that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.
The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.
A fortnight later 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 merely wish that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.