America, I Still Find So Much to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My US Citizenship

After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, 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

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, 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 revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided within America for two years and haven't visited for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and no intention to live, work or study 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 submit annual tax returns, although not residing or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates 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 process proves highly challenging and complex to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson 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 associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning about potential coercion, 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 gets granted during potential return trips.