A passionate linguist and writer dedicated to helping others improve their communication through creative storytelling.
After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. Though fondness remains, the passion has diminished and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because there remains much to admire about you.
From your breathtaking national parks, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the enchanting glow of fireflies amid cornfields on summer evenings and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, seasonal squash dessert, fruit preserves. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
Were I drafting a farewell message to America, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery due to my father and ten generations preceding him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers 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 contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up during the Great Depression; 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 rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; while another ancestor ran as a state senator.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that makes me doubt what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.
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 – thus no functional requirement to maintain U.S. citizenship.
Furthermore, the obligation as an American national to submit annual tax returns, 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 impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.
Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas 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 represents poor investment. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting including extra worry about potential denial at immigration for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Both options appear unsatisfactory.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.
The threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I performed the citizenship relinquishment – provided the final motivation. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and during the official questioning regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.
A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my canceled passport to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published within government records. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved during potential return trips.
A passionate linguist and writer dedicated to helping others improve their communication through creative storytelling.