Mom’s Passing and a House Full of Documents
My mother Yvonne died in 2021. I was 51 years old, one year into a new marriage, Covid 19 pandemic raging; I was reeling from all the big changes in my life. Although my mother had moved from her (neatly) hoarded house and downsized to a one-bedroom assisted living apartment a few years prior, she still had boxes and boxes of documents, letters, passports, and more.
It was overwhelming but also fascinating to read old letters she had sent to her family throughout the years. Her father, mother, and brother had passed away, and with each clean-out in Sweden, somebody in the family must have forwarded all saved letters back to my mom because she had a LOT of correspondence back and forth.
I pulled together a clear picture of someone deeply tied to her homeland while feeling very proud of the life she made for herself in the US. As proud as she was to live in the United States, she never gained citizenship. She only had a Green Card, but it didn’t keep her from working, buying a home, or getting anything else done.
She used to say she was worried she could never pass the US citizenship test, but part of me thinks she just never wanted to let go of being Swedish. Although Sweden and the US allow dual citizenship, she wanted to stay true to her heritage.
Years of Frustrating Dead Ends
When I review my Gmail history, I see years of several weak attempts at learning my citizenship options. I sent intermittent, timid emails to the Swedish Embassy in DC and to Migrationsverket itself. Every response was vague with only minimal instruction about what my options were.
The first step was to check at the local consulate whether my mother had submitted my information to retain Swedish citizenship before I turned 22. I was surprised to learn that she hadn’t, but I have the vaguest memory that when her girlfriends were all setting up their kids with Swedish passports, she asked me and I said, “Naw… why bother?”
When I was a teen, I was firmly entrenched in my US life and had no thoughts of what future me might want. It seemed like a big hassle, so she didn’t pursue it, and I assumed I had lost my access.
The Email That Changed Nothing (At First)
I found an email from 2017 where I asked Migrationsverket whether I qualified for citizenship based on my yearly visits to Sweden prior to age 22. The response was a curt one line basically saying, “If you are a Swedish citizen, you can go to the police station (in Sweden,) to get a Personnummer and Passport.”
So basically, not answering my question. Thanks, Mr. Bureaucracy, no help at all.
Missing My Swedish Family More Than Ever
With my mother deceased, I had no family left in the US. I had my new husband, but no blood relatives. It seemed ever more urgent to learn whether I could finally discover the truth and move on with my life either way.
Each email to the Embassy or Migrationsverket resulted in a slightly different answer, but one time, the response mentioned a form called a “Declaration of Citizenship” or “Ansökan om medborgarskapsförklaring.”
While the form wasn’t particularly complicated, it did require a lot of information going back to my grandparents. The form had to be completed in Swedish, which is fair. As mentioned before, this specific form is not a Swedish language test. Using translation help is not against the rules, but I believe the correspondence should always be in Swedish, and it’s easy to miss something unless you have consistent translation or comprehension.
The Confusing Rules That Almost Stopped Me
I’m going to cut and paste from the “Automatic Citizenship Information page” to confuse things even more.
Remember, I was born in the US in 1970 to a Swedish mother and American father who were not married. The Migrationsverket page only offers rules going back to July 1, 2001. Where did my situation fit in?
Before 1 April 2015, but after 1 July 2001, there were different rules than those that apply today:
Children with a Swedish mother: A child with a Swedish mother always became a Swedish citizen. It did not matter if the child was born in Sweden or abroad. (My note: ok, this is promising, but I was born before July 1, 2001.)
Children with a Swedish father and a non-Swedish mother: Nope
Children of a non-Swedish mother who was the spouse, registered partner, or cohabitating partner of a Swedish woman: Nope
Swedish citizenship through the parents’ marriage: Nope
Children with a Swedish father who were born abroad: And… Nope
I clung to that “Swedish Mother” example and felt it was worth it to apply. Fortunately, there was no cost, so I started assembling all the information.
The Decision to Try One More Time
With a thick file folder of documentation and a little bit of äkta Swedish determination, I filled a large padded UPS envelope with everything I could think of and sent it off to the Embassy in DC in November 2023.
A few weeks later, I received an email from the Embassy saying they were sending back all my personal items and forwarding my application to Migrationsverket in Sweden. I was warned it could take up to two years to receive a response.
And then… I waited.
Next week, I’ll share exactly what documents I included in that thick envelope and how I put together the strongest case possible. Because if you’re going to do this, you might as well do it right.
Have you ever applied for citizenship in another country? I’d love to hear about your experience – the bureaucracy, the waiting, the uncertainty. Share your story in the comments below.