After 60 years 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.
Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your ability to spark creativity seems boundless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Ancestral History and Changing Connection
If I were composing a separation letter to America, that's how it would begin. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.
I experience deep honor in my family's history and their role in the national story. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped 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 feeling intensifies considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.
Practical Considerations and Financial Burden
I merely lived within America a brief period 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 in the US again. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain U.S. citizenship.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, despite neither living or employed there nor qualifying for benefits, 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 tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, yet filing costs vary between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.
Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice
I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but all Americans overseas 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. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration 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 feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – supplied the ultimate impetus. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to keep as souvenirs. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I merely wish that subsequent travel authorization gets granted during potential return trips.
