Not so proud to be American — ‘fed up’ expats renounce citizenship
Each year, 5,000 to 6,000 Americans renounce U.S. citizenship mostly for tax-related and logistical reasons but politics is now playing a more central role, lawyers say.
LONDON — On the morning after the U.S. election last November, an American living in London woke up, read that Donald Trump would be returning to the White House and sent an email to the U.S. Embassy. It said, in essence, I want a divorce.
A year later, the country of his birth is about to grant his request not to be an American any more.
On a coming morning, he will walk into the embassy as an American, swear face-to-face that he understands that what he has requested is irrevocable and that he is doing it voluntarily. He will pay $2,350 in fees and walk out again as … a former American? A non-American? An un-American?
It’s strange.
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“As soon as I open my mouth people know I’m American,” said the man, who left the U.S. at age 25 and built a career in Britain’s nonprofit sector, got a British passport and made a British life in the London suburbs. All the while, he felt his American identity wither and then, when a politician he loathes returned to power, die.
“Once I renounce, that’s it, I’m just British,” said the man. He is not alone.
Others interviewed for this article, who also spoke on condition of anonymity, said the fear of retribution by a president who insists he is making America greater, is indicative of the tipping-point changes that led them, after years of deliberation, to finally cut ties with their homeland.
“This government is so vindictive,” the man said. “It’s such a changed country from the one I left behind.”
Each year, some 5,000 to 6,000 Americans living abroad call it quits with the U.S. The reasons most often cited are tax-related and logistical, according to immigration lawyers who handle renunciation cases. But these days, politics is playing a more central role, they say.
The United States is one of only two countries — along with Eritrea — that tax income based on citizenship rather than residency, requiring Americans abroad to file annual returns with the IRS in addition to those required by the country where they live or work.
Some banks, daunted by the onerous extra reporting requirements imposed by Washington, won’t let American citizens open accounts or charge them extra fees. Some countries, including Japan and Qatar, don’t allow dual citizenship, forcing U.S. expats to chose one passport or the other.
Prime Minister Boris Johnson addresses the nation as he announces his resignation outside 10 Downing Street in London in 2022. (Dan Kitwood/Getty Images)
Even former British prime minister Boris Johnson, born in New York to British parents, renounced his U.S. citizenship in 2016 after complaining of an “absolutely outrageous” IRS bill from the sale of his London house.
But increasingly, according to lawyers who handle such casesand the chatter in online forums — a Facebook group called “Renounce U.S. Citizenship — Why and How” has almost 3,000 members--renouncers cite unhappiness with U.S. politics and policy as part of their motivation.
“Politics is definitely more part of the mix lately,” said Maya Buckley, a London attorney. “When we ask the question of ‘Why now?’ that has become one of the factors.”
Between 2024 and 2025, the percentage of U.S. citizens living abroad considering renouncing rose to 49 percent from 30 percent, according to an annual survey by Greenback, an international tax consultancy. Of those, 61 percent cited “taxes” among their reasons and 51 percent included “dissatisfaction with the U.S. government or political direction.”
Renouncers describe keeping a mental tally of arcane hassles that come with the overseas lifestyle that many have chosen for themselves: being blocked from banks, extra fees and reporting requirements, paying accountants to deal with tax agencies in two countries, additional taxes when selling a house or stocks.
For many, it was all annoying but bearable given that renunciation is an irreversible step that means losing the right to live or work in the United States and possible difficulties, including obtaining visas, in visiting family.
Then came the upheavals in the United States, the growing divisiveness, the January 6, 2021, riot at the U.S. Capitol, legal challenges to voting rights, school shootings, cancel culture. For Republicans, it was “wokeness” ruining the country. For Democrats, it was Trump.
“I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for the election,” the London man said. “I just couldn’t understand, and still can’t, how a third of Americans can think a felon and sex offender is the right guy for the job.”
Colleen McCutcheon, 33, was born in Ohio to her American mother and Canadian father. She grew up mostly in Canada, crossing the border frequently to visit family. In 2018 she moved to London for school and stayed to work.
McCutcheon had noticed a shift in U.S. attitudes over recent years that made it harder and harder to imagine living in her birth land again. She worried about the opioid crisis, the lack of affordable health care, the coarsening political rhetoric.
While escorting her grandfather to a ceremony for veterans at the World War II memorial in 2017 Washington, she was dismayed at how vitriolic the discourse had become.
“It was a collection of things that happened along the way, bit by bit, that gave me the feeling that I no longer had any sense of being American,” she said. The bother of renewing the passport no longer seemed worth it.
After her grandfather died and she didn’t have to worry about being blocked at passport control, she submitted to renounce her U.S. citizenship, sending the email on the very day she learned she couldstay permanently in the U.K.
It was, as it happened, Election Day 2024 in the U.S. She had just voted by absentee ballot in Hamilton County, Ohio, for what turned out to be the last time.
Scene outside the Capitol after Trump supporters breached the building and at least one person was shot in Washington, D.C., on Jan. 6, 2021. (Bonnie Jo Mount/The Washington Post)
She and others petitioning for an amicable breakup got a warning from the U.S. Embassy to be patient: “Due to unprecedented demand for loss of nationality services, we are unable to provide estimated wait times for appointments.”
The U.S. Embassy and State Department declined to comment.Many federal agencies prohibit media teams from operating during a government shutdown.
Covid created a backlog in big embassies like London. Post-election renouncers have only added demand, and some lawyers send their clients to U.S. embassies in Malta, Prague and other European capitals where the wait for appointments is shorter.
Abbie, 41, a Londoner who spoke on the condition that she be identified only by her first name, flew to Latvia in July to officially sever her relationship with the country where she was born in the Reagan era to a British couple working in the States.
She lived in New England for five years, and her mother became a naturalized American. But Abbie, who is now married to a European and raising purely British children, considers herself an “accidental American,” someone whose citizenship is more circumstantial than cultural. It’s a common category of citizenship renouncer.
Still, it was hard to go through the strange unwinding of all those Pledges of Allegiance she had recited as a child. “I hereby absolutely and entirely renounce my United States nationality together with all rights and privileges and all duties and allegiance and fidelity thereunto pertaining,” reads the oath of renunciation.
“I identify as a European but I’ve always been proud to be American-ish,” Abbie said. “It’s a strange existential thing to stand there and raise your hand and say I am now laying that part of myself down to rest.”
The process is laborious and slow. Would-be renouncers must have another citizenship to fall back on. They must demonstrate that they are up-to-date on U.S. tax filings for the previous five years. Certain high-earners or those who haven’t filed recent tax returns could be hit with an exit tax that calculates a capital gains liability as if you had liquidated all your assets on the day you renounced. Most renouncers don’t face that, lawyers said.
Abbie knew she was giving up the eagle-embossed passport that millions of immigrants sacrificed everything for, that countless refugees yearn for today. Now, she is just another alien who must stand in the noncitizens line in U.S. airports hoping her eVisa is in order.
“I want them to know they can’t expect the same smooth entry they’ve been used to,” said Janice Flynn, an immigration lawyer in London. “It’s always been a concern but now when they hear how [other noncitizens travelers] are being treated the question is ‘What if I have something on social media?’”
Flynn had a client for whom the final straw was having his mail-in ballot challenged in Philadelphia as voting fights have become more partisan and acrimonious.
“He’s frustrated,” Flynn said. “He thought, ‘I had to pay taxes but at least I could vote in U.S. elections. If they are going to take that away …’”
For him and others — including “fed up” members of her own family who are thinking of renouncing — Flynn emphasized just how permanent the renunciation process is. Politics and tax law — and presidents — come and go, but there are no second marriages to the United States.
“Sometimes I want to tell people, don’t give up,” she said. “It can change again.”
