🔗 Share this article

After 60 years together, America, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and I'm making the difficult decision to separate. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, because there remains much to admire about you.

Scenic Wonders and Innovative Energy

From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as demonstrated by the motivational people I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "accidental American" since birth because of my paternal lineage and ten generations preceding him, starting in 1636 including military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.

I experience deep honor in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his grandfather served as a Marine in France during the first world war; his single-parent ancestor operated agricultural land with numerous offspring; his great-uncle assisted reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This is particularly true considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning the meaning of national belonging. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I've only resided in the United States for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and no intention to live, work or study within America subsequently. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement for me to retain American nationality.

Furthermore, the obligation 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 – including Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's documented in our passport backs.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

Authorities have indicated that eventually American officials will mandate conformity and impose significant penalties against non-compliant citizens. 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 decision, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Holding a U.S. passport represents a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. 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 of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.