USA, There's Still So Much to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My US Citizenship

After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message 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 centuries of ancestors before 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 toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his grandfather served with the military overseas during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

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 leaves me questioning what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – 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 for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education in the US again. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – 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 even for basic returns, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

Authorities have indicated that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement 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 feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.

Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.