Take me back, Britain

Yeah, so…um, Britain? About that whole Independence thing back in 1776? I was kinda hoping you might…you know…look past that and grant me citizenship. I married one of your own. I work in your country. I pay all my taxes. (In fact I paid way more than I should have the last two years. You paid me back but still.) I invested in property here. I eat Curiously Cinnamon cereal rather than importing Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. If that is not a sign of my dedication to being an upstanding citizen, I don’t know what is.

So, whaddya think? You’ve got my details. Call me! Whenever, of course, that’s cool. I included a photo on page 9. I couldn’t smile because they told me not to but if I could have — uh, yeah, sure. I’ll just wait here.

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This week I had my nationality check (good news everyone – I am who I say I am) and sent off my application to become a British citizen. It was a long application which required I record every time I exited and re-entered the UK in the last three years, two written references, a declaration that I am of “sound mind”, and my pass certificate for the Life in the UK test, among other things. Oh, and let us not forget the whopping fee of £750. On top of the thousands of pounds I’ve spent on visas. (I’m not bitter, Britain.)

So now I wait. And I hope. Because although I never really thought about being another nationality, I can’t see any drawbacks here. I get to keep my American citizenship. I get to be both.

British citizenship means I can come and go whenever I want. I won’t have to worry about visas. If we have children, they can be dual citizens as well. I can move anywhere in the EU. I could go to Cuba if I wanted to.

(I just asked Scott what else I can get with British citizenship – above and beyond the right to vote and serve in the military. And he said, “Prestige.” So I get arrogance as well.)

This doesn’t mean I’m not American anymore or that I won’t feel American. But today, on the 4th of July, I’m a little bit more sad than previous years. Because even though I say British citizenship means I can move back to the US for a period of time and return later and forget about visas and all that hassle, there is a sense of permanency that comes with it.

It is something that I experience more and more each day I am here. I am settling here and I can truthfully say I am letting myself. And it feels good.

Most of the time.

Today I’m missing my family who have all flown to Florida for a family reunion. I couldn’t go because I was applying for citizenship and wouldn’t have my passport to leave the country. I’m telling myself that next year I can go and hey, cheer up! Next time I can go in the fast immigration lane in both countries.

But now I just wait.

I’m going to bake an apple pie and make Scott take me to see My Sister’s Keeper (because that’ll cheer me up.) I think we might even squeeze in a trip to Costco where I can buy Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup and Skippy Peanut Butter in bulk. I’ll buy myself a chocolate soft serve ice cream because – and this is not an exaggeration – it tastes exactly the same as a Wendy’s Frosty.

See, I’m still an American.

(But I can love you both, Britain. Pick me, pick me!)