United States, I Still Find 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. While I still hold affection for you, the passion has diminished and the time has come to go our separate ways. This departure is voluntary, though it brings sadness, because you possess countless wonderful qualities.

Natural Beauty and Creative Spirit

Beginning with your magnificent protected lands, soaring ancient trees and distinctive animal species to the enchanting glow of fireflies between crop rows during warm nights and the vibrant autumn foliage, your environmental beauty is remarkable. Your capacity to ignite innovation seems boundless, as evidenced through the motivational people I've met throughout your territory. Many of my most cherished memories revolve around flavors that will forever remind me of you – aromatic cinnamon, pumpkin pie, fruit preserves. But, America, you've become increasingly difficult to understand.

Family Legacy and Shifting Identity

Were I drafting a farewell message to America, those would be the opening words. I've been what's termed an "unintentional U.S. citizen" since birth because of my paternal lineage and centuries of ancestors before him, commencing in the seventeenth century including revolutionary and civil war soldiers, DNA connections to past leadership and generations of pioneers who journeyed across the nation, beginning in northeastern states toward central and western regions.

I experience deep honor regarding my ancestral background and their role in the national story. 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 reconstruct the city 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 with the country. This feeling intensifies given the perplexing and alarming governmental climate that makes me doubt the meaning of national belonging. Experts have termed this "national belonging anxiety" – and I believe I experience it. Currently I wish to establish separation.

Logistical Factors and Economic Strain

I merely lived in the United States for two years and haven't visited in nearly a decade. I've maintained Australian nationality for almost forty years and have no plans to live, work or study in the US again. And I'm confident I won't require military rescue – 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. America stands with merely two countries globally – including Eritrea – that implement levies according to nationality instead of location. And financial compliance is mandatory – it's documented within travel documents.

Certainly, a tax agreement exists connecting both nations, designed to prevent duplicate payments, but preparation expenses range from substantial amounts yearly even for basic returns, and the process proves highly challenging and complex to undertake every new year, as the American fiscal cycle begins.

Regulatory Issues and Ultimate Choice

I've been informed that ultimately American officials will mandate conformity and administer substantial fines against non-compliant citizens. These measures affect not only high-profile individuals but all Americans overseas must fulfill obligations.

Although financial matters aren't the main cause for my renunciation, the recurring cost and anxiety of filing returns proves distressing and fundamental economics indicates it constitutes inefficient resource allocation. But neglecting U.S. tax responsibilities could result in travel including extra worry regarding possible border rejection due to irregular status. Alternatively, I could postpone resolution until my estate handles it posthumously. Neither alternative seems acceptable.

Possessing American travel documentation constitutes an opportunity many newcomers earnestly attempt to obtain. Yet this advantage that feels uncomfortable for me, so I'm taking action, despite the $2,350 cost to complete the process.

The intimidating official portrait featuring the former president, glowering at attendees at the U.S. consulate in Sydney – where I recited the renunciation oath – provided the final motivation. I understand I'm choosing the proper direction for my circumstances and during the official questioning 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 name will reportedly appear on a federal registry. I simply hope that future visa applications gets granted when I decide to visit again.

Gregory Kramer
Gregory Kramer

A passionate storyteller with a knack for weaving imaginative tales that captivate and inspire audiences worldwide.