USA, There's Still So Much to Adore About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship

After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife 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 motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. 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 qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states 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 ancestor fought as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided within America for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life 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 to maintain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually 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 American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.