America, There's Still Plenty to Adore About You, But We Have to Break Up: Here's Why I'm Renouncing My American Citizenship

After 60 years together, United States, our partnership must conclude. Though fondness remains, the romantic connection has faded and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, despite the sorrow it brings, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

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 brilliant fall colors, your natural splendor is extraordinary. Your ability to spark creativity appears limitless, as demonstrated by the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Numerous precious recollections revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – cinnamon spice, pumpkin pie, grape jelly. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Ancestral History and Changing Connection

If I were composing a separation letter to the United States, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" from delivery because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, starting in 1636 including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, shared genetic material with a former president plus multiple eras of settlers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states to Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Kansas.

I feel tremendous pride in my family's history and their contributions to America's narrative. My dad grew up through economic hardship; his ancestor fought with the military overseas in the global conflict; his widowed great-grandmother managed a farm with nine children; his relative helped rebuild San Francisco following the seismic disaster; and his grandfather campaigned as a state senator.

However, notwithstanding this classic U.S. background, I discover myself increasingly disconnected with the country. This is particularly true considering the confusing and alarming governmental climate that leaves me questioning the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "citizen insecurity" – and I believe I experience it. Now I desire to create distance.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived within America for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for most of my life and have no plans to live, work or study in the US again. And I'm confident I'll never need emergency extraction – thus no functional requirement to maintain U.S. citizenship.

Additionally, the requirement I face as a U.S. citizen to file yearly financial documentation, although not residing nor working there or eligible for services, becomes onerous and stressful. The United States ranks among only two nations worldwide – the other being Eritrea – that implement levies based on citizenship rather than residence. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's printed in our passport backs.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, intended to avoid double taxation, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the procedure represents extremely demanding and convoluted to complete each January, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that ultimately the U.S. government will enforce compliance and impose significant penalties on delinquent individuals. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but every U.S. citizen abroad must fulfill obligations.

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 represents poor investment. However, ignoring American fiscal duties could result in travel involves additional apprehension regarding possible border rejection for non-compliance. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution for inheritance processing after death. Both options appear unsatisfactory.

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 threatening formal photograph of Donald Trump, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm selecting the correct path for my situation and when the consular officer inquires regarding external pressure, I honestly respond negatively.

Two weeks afterward I received my certificate of renunciation and my voided travel papers to retain as mementos. My identity will supposedly be published on a federal registry. I merely wish that future visa applications will be approved when I decide to visit again.

Suzanne Russell
Suzanne Russell

A passionate writer and storyteller with over a decade of experience in crafting engaging narratives and mentoring aspiring authors.