United States, There's Still Plenty to Love About You, But We Have to Break Up: These Are the Reasons I'm Giving Up My US Citizenship

After six decades together, America, our partnership must conclude. While I still hold affection for you, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. 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, towering redwood forests and unique wildlife to the magical illumination of lightning bugs amid cornfields on summer evenings and the brilliant fall colors, 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 revolve around flavors that permanently connect me to you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. However, United States, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

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 because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century and featuring military participants in foundational conflicts, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers 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 contributions to America's narrative. My father experienced childhood during the Great Depression; his ancestor fought as a Marine in France during the first world war; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his relative helped reconstruct the city after the 1906 earthquake; 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 the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "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 a brief period and haven't returned in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and no intention to live, work or study in the US again. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – thus no functional requirement for me to retain U.S. citizenship.

Furthermore, the obligation I face as a U.S. citizen to submit annual tax returns, despite neither living nor working there nor qualifying for benefits, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – including Eritrea – that impose taxation according to nationality instead of location. And tax conformity is compulsory – it's printed within travel documents.

Admittedly, a fiscal treaty operates between Australia and the U.S., designed to prevent duplicate payments, yet filing costs vary from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, when the U.S. tax period commences.

Compliance Concerns and Final Decision

I've been informed that eventually the U.S. government will enforce compliance and administer substantial fines on delinquent individuals. This enforcement doesn't target high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas need to meet requirements.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my decision, the recurring cost and anxiety associated with documentation becomes troubling and basic financial principles suggest it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities would mean that visiting including extra worry about potential denial at immigration 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 an opportunity many newcomers desperately seek to acquire. But it's a privilege that feels uncomfortable for me, thus I'm implementing changes, although requiring significant payment to complete the process.

The threatening formal photograph featuring the former president, 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 situation and during the official questioning about potential coercion, I honestly respond negatively.

A fortnight later I obtained my official relinquishment document and my voided travel papers 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.

Ms. Lori Walters PhD
Ms. Lori Walters PhD

A mental health advocate and writer passionate about sharing evidence-based strategies for emotional wellness and resilience.