After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights 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 – cinnamon spice, 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 the United States, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century including military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.
I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I find myself no longer feeling connected with the country. This is particularly true given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement 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 nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, 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 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 decision, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.
The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted during potential return trips.
