America, There's Still Plenty to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: These Are the Reasons I'm Renouncing My US Citizenship
After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. 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, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, 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 America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.
I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This is particularly true considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – 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 held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study in the US again. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement to maintain U.S. citizenship.
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, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed in our passport backs.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary 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 the U.S. government will enforce compliance 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 renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. 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. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.
A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.