After six decades together, America, I'm ending our relationship. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and the time has come to go our separate ways. I'm leaving by choice, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.
From your breathtaking national parks, towering redwood forests and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your capacity to ignite innovation appears limitless, as demonstrated by 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 – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, I simply don't comprehend you anymore.
If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, that's how it would begin. I've qualified as an "accidental American" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, from Massachusetts and New Jersey toward central and western regions.
I feel tremendous pride regarding my ancestral background and their contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood through economic hardship; his grandfather served with the military overseas during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his great-uncle assisted rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned for political office.
However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I find myself no longer feeling connected to the nation. This feeling intensifies considering the confusing and concerning political atmosphere that leaves me questioning what American identity represents. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I recognize the symptoms. Currently I wish to establish separation.
I've only resided within America 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 reside, employment or education in the US again. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – so there's no practical necessity to maintain American nationality.
Additionally, the requirement as an American national to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living or employed there or eligible for services, proves burdensome and anxiety-inducing. America stands with merely two countries globally – the other being Eritrea – that impose taxation based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed in our passport backs.
Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range between A$1,200 and A$3,500 annually even for basic returns, and the procedure represents highly challenging and complex to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.
Authorities have indicated that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. 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 decision, the annual expense and stress associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. However, ignoring American fiscal duties would mean that visiting involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Neither alternative seems acceptable.
Possessing American travel documentation constitutes 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 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 selecting the correct path for my circumstances and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I truthfully answer no.
Two weeks afterward I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that subsequent travel authorization will be approved when I decide to visit again.
A passionate writer and cultural enthusiast with a knack for uncovering unique stories across the UK.