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Knowing Carrie wouldn't back down, I held the line. While I'd finally told my father no, there was no tangible victory for my marriage. And the tension between Carrie and me grew as I seethed inwardly toward her for making me take sides.

Five years into our marriage, the conflict came to a head. I was in a meeting when Carrie came by the church to drop off something. As she struggled to get the baby and our active two year old buckled into car seats, someone accidentally hit the power door lock and the kids were trapped inside the car, engine running.

Carrie pulled me out of the meeting, nearly hysterical. It eventually took a police officer and someone from the Ford dealership before the door could be forced open.

That night we had a no-holds-barred fight.

"You weren't there for me today," Carrie complained. "Just like every other time I need you."

"What are you talking about? I was there."

"You were there physically. But you're not on my side. And it makes me feel completely alone. I feel as if I'm a single mom! It was a battle just to get you out of that meeting! Why do you always choose your parents over me? Doesn't Genesis say that the man is supposed to leave his parents and cleave to his wife? You've never left them! And it's killing our marriage."

I was stunned. The weight of that truth slowly overwhelmed me with a mixture of horror and guilt.

We both grew quiet as we let her words hang in the air.

Finally, I had to admit it. "You're right," I said quietly. "I never did leave—not physically, not emotionally. I still process my entire world through the grid of what I believe Dad will think and say."

For the first time, I understood that my divided loyalties could cost me my marriage. Somehow, some way, things had to change.

Hot tears stained my face. "I'm sorry, Carrie."

As Carrie saw my genuine remorse, her heart softened. "So what do we do now?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I guess we talk to my parents. We need to establish some boundaries."

The next evening we went to their home to explain our revelation. "I never left you guys in my heart," I said timidly. "Yet that's what God established in the Garden of Eden as a prerequisite for marriage."

My parents struggled to grasp our intentions. How could the family closeness they'd cultivated all my life be a bad thing?

In the months ahead we tried to set boundaries to protect our relationship. The physical ones were easy—limiting my nights out, cutting back on time spent with my parents. But because we still didn't know how to set clear emotional boundaries with my folks, little changed.

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