United States, There's Still So Much to Love About You, But It's Time to Part Ways: Here's Why I'm Giving Up My American Citizenship

After six decades together, America, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded 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

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as evidenced through the inspiring individuals I've encountered within your borders. Many of my most cherished memories center on tastes that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. But, America, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

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, starting in 1636 and featuring revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president and generations of pioneers who traversed the country, from Massachusetts and New Jersey to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. 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 relative helped reconstruct the city following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

Yet despite this quintessentially American heritage, I discover myself increasingly disconnected to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. This phenomenon has been labeled "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Practical Considerations and Financial Burden

I've only resided in the United States a brief period and haven't visited for eight years. I've held Australian citizenship for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study in the US again. Furthermore, I'm certain 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 submit annual tax returns, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. America stands with only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented in our passport backs.

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 process proves extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

Authorities have indicated that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only extremely wealthy figures like Boris Johnson but every U.S. citizen abroad need to meet requirements.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling 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 for non-compliance. Or, I might defer settlement until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes a privilege that countless immigrants desperately seek to acquire. Yet this advantage that creates discomfort personally, thus I'm implementing changes, despite the $2,350 cost to finalize the procedure.

The intimidating official portrait of Donald Trump, scowling toward visitors within the diplomatic facility – where I recited the renunciation oath – supplied the ultimate impetus. I recognize I'm choosing the proper direction for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I truthfully answer no.

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.

Monica Palmer
Monica Palmer

A passionate gamer and strategy expert with years of experience in competitive gaming and content creation.