🔗 Share this article

After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. I'm leaving by choice, despite the sorrow it brings, because there remains much to admire about you.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species 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 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 – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. 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 qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I experience deep honor in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served 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 after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I merely lived within America a brief period and haven't returned for eight years. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study 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.

Additionally, the requirement as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies 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, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range 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

Authorities have indicated that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and basic financial principles suggest it represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

Holding a U.S. passport represents an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, so I'm taking action, 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 recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to keep as souvenirs. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization gets granted when I decide to visit again.