🔗 Share this article America, I Still Find So Much to Love About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship After 60 years together, America, 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, 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 enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand. Ancestral History and Changing Connection Were I drafting a farewell message to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth due to my father and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas. I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; 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 considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance. Logistical Factors and Economic Strain I've only resided within America a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and no intention to reside, employment or education in the US again. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship. Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed in our passport backs. Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually for straightforward declarations, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins. Compliance Concerns and Final Decision Authorities have indicated that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations. While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting including extra worry about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory. Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process. The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no. A fortnight later I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.