After 60 years together, United States, 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 you possess countless wonderful qualities.
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by the inspiring individuals I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.
Were I drafting a farewell message to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century including military participants in foundational conflicts, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.
I experience deep honor in my family's history and their role in the national story. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas in the global conflict; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake; while another ancestor ran for political office.
Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.
I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to reside, employment or education in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain I won't require military rescue – so there's no practical necessity for me to retain American nationality.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing or employed there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly for straightforward declarations, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.
While taxation isn't the primary reason for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension about potential denial at immigration due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. 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 complete the process.
The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, glowering at attendees within the diplomatic facility – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and when the consular officer inquires about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.
A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear within government records. I simply hope that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.