USA, I Still Find So Much 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, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. 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, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. 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 qualified as an "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I experience deep honor 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 during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity to maintain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad need to meet requirements.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.

The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.