🔗 Share this article USA, I Still Find Plenty to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship After six decades together, United States, our partnership must conclude. 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 there remains much to admire about you. Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings 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 met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore. Ancestral History and Changing Connection Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers 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 father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; 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 what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance. Logistical Factors and Economic Strain I merely lived in the United States for two years and haven't visited for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and have no plans to reside, employment or education in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement to maintain American nationality. Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed in our passport backs. Certainly, a tax agreement exists between Australia and the U.S., 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 extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences. Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice I've been informed that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. This enforcement doesn't target extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements. While taxation isn't the primary reason for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory. Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, 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 selecting the correct path for my situation 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 keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved during potential return trips.