🔗 Share this article

After six decades together, United States, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, 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 appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals 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, fruit preserves. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery due to my father and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including military participants in foundational conflicts, 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 feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their role in the national story. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This is particularly true considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement to maintain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, 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 the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. 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 keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.