USA, There's Still So Much to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship
After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished 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.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Family Legacy and Shifting Identity
Were I drafting a farewell message to America, 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 and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.
I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.
Logistical Factors and Economic Strain
I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. And I'm confident 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 or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented in our passport backs.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
Authorities have indicated that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.
Although financial matters aren't the main cause 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 due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
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 intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.
A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I merely wish that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.