🔗 Share this article

After six decades together, United States, 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.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

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 grandfather served as a Marine in France 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; while another ancestor ran for political office.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided within America for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. 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 – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.

Additionally, the requirement as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that eventually 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 every U.S. citizen abroad need to meet requirements.

While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension 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 earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.