United States, There's Still Plenty to Adore About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship

After 60 years 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. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, 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, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" since birth due to my father 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, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

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. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I merely lived within America for two years and haven't returned for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and no intention to reside, employment or education within America subsequently. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, 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

Authorities have indicated that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

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. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting 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.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. 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 – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.