I am delighted that my husband has removed his elderly parents from our lives.

For my husband’s 60th birthday, I decided to organize a family holiday on the French Riviera for 20 people. To make the organization easier, I created a WhatsApp group with all the guests.

My in-laws wanted to know all the details, the cost, and exactly where we were going. That was all fine and good, but after message number 20, I started to feel more than a little exasperated.

After my 77-year-old mother-in-law asked me once again about the weather, I got angry and replied, “Google the location!” I hadn’t anticipated the resulting fury.

“How dare you?” was the response. Followed by “Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?” And then, “I’m not going to Google it!” The conclusion? “You are a rude, bossy woman.” Ouch!

My mother-in-law and I had tolerated each other for 20 years, but now, clearly, the gloves had come off.

Outraged, I replied: “I could say the same about you!” and closed the WhatsApp group.

A week later, on my husband’s birthday—and fifteen days before the holiday—his parents called him on the phone, not to wish him a happy birthday, but to demand that he divorce me.

They spent a good hour carefully describing my crimes over the years (including not holding a car door for one of them and not complimenting them on a new coat of paint on their garage door) and said I had to choose: them or me.

And I’m happy to say that he chose me. Furious at their slander of his wife, he has not spoken to them since.

Needless to say, they did not join us on vacation. There were probably some moments of nostalgia for my husband, but he kept them to himself. As for me, I feel pangs of guilt deep inside whenever I think about the state of family affairs. How could I have let things get this far?

Because even though many of us secretly detest our in-laws, we would never want to intentionally separate ourselves from them completely… That being said, I don’t see myself being completely responsible for this confrontation either.

Since I met my husband in 2004, both of us, as the eldest children in our families, have taken our parental responsibilities seriously. But while my parents, who are now in their 70s, don’t take advantage of this situation, my husbands always have.

We live an hour away from them here in the Cotswolds, and as we are geographically closer than my husband’s two younger sisters, they have relied on us for everything from urgent trips to the hospital to picking them up when their car breaks down.

Sometimes, I’ve felt like I married not only my husband, but also my in-laws. They are the definition of life-suckers.

When we told them we were going to try for a baby, the first words out of my father-in-law’s mouth were, “We don’t do babysitting or pick-up and drop-off.” And they’ve kept their word.

My husband and I didn’t end up having children, but I do have a stepdaughter, now 30, from his first marriage, who I helped raise and no, they never attended a school production or helped out during vacations.

And yet, we have done everything we can to help my husband’s grandmother, who is now in her 90s and lives in a nursing home, a responsibility that should surely have fallen to my in-laws.

We take her out for walks, we do her weekly shopping, we make her feel loved. All of this comes out of our own pockets, although when she sold her four-bedroom detached house, she gave a six-figure sum to my father-in-law, who does very little for her. We never saw a cent of it.

It’s not that we expected financial compensation, and we never received it, but it’s hard to accept the fact that while we often buy firewood for the stove from my in-laws during the winter, they always contribute to the mortgage payments for the other two siblings.

Considering the number of times we’ve been asked to help, you might think my in-laws are very busy, but they aren’t. They’ve made us do everything from building a kitchen extension to repairing the garage roof. We would never have expected a penny in return, even though we took vacations on both occasions.

But I felt a little bad when I discovered that my younger sister-in-law’s partner had been paid to help finish things off. Was he a roofer or a qualified builder? Of course not. He was between administrative jobs and they took pity on him.

But don’t think I’m bitter about money. I’m more concerned about recognition. The words “thank you” wouldn’t be amiss.

In every family there is a favourite, and my in-laws are no exception. There is a decade of difference between my husband and his younger sister, who is now in her 40s. Considering how much they have spoiled this mother of two over the years, is it any wonder she has gone from one life disaster to another?

Every time she leaves a relationship, her parents ask us to help her move out and move back in with family. Within a year, she moves on to the next one and once again we are expected to wrap her knick-knacks in bubble wrap. At last count, we have moved her five times. I have always gotten along with her in the past and yet, since my in-laws are supporting her financially, is it any wonder she has decided to foot the bill during this impasse?

But the favoritism has been evident for years. Although my husband has complained about it to me privately, I would never get involved in his family’s politics.

At birthday and Christmas gatherings, my belligerent father-in-law likes to tease my husband in ridiculous ways. If my husband says they drank one type of wine the year before, then my mother-in-law will swear it was another.

He goes on his way, dominating the evening as if two silverbacks were circling each other. He will leave my husband annoyed and bewildered for days. Over the decades, I have been dismayed to see him cruelly cut down to size at family gatherings. Why would anyone do that?

I talked about it with a friend who sent me a book about narcissistic parents and how to take care of yourself when you are surrounded by such people.

We’ve tried really hard with them, but it’s always been a one-way street. Five years ago, we took them to Cornwall for the weekend. They both knew we had to go back to work on Tuesday morning, but on Monday afternoon they announced that they were hungry and tired and needed to stop along the way for something to eat. Is anyone surprised we didn’t get home until 4am?

Of course, my husband gets angry, but he never says anything. Instead, he doesn’t sleep after these episodes and often has an upset stomach.

Is that part of what has caused the problem over the years? I suspect the fact that they have never resolved it has contributed to the growing resentment on both sides. I have urged him to try to find a solution, but it is either up to them or not at all.

I can handle many of these incidents, I put them down to moments of disapproval with the in-laws, but my husband’s distress worries me. I try to be diplomatic: one of the unspoken rules of life is that while we can speak ill of our families, our spouse cannot do the same. But I wish I had been firmer because I feel we are at a point of no return.

So here we are, a year later, and he’s completely estranged from them. I’ve suggested he come visit, but he won’t. They’ve made it clear that the door is open to him, but not to me.

Does he miss them? I don’t think he does, but there’s a lot of pain and confusion beneath the surface. If anyone feels lost here, it’s them, and it says a lot that the brothers have tried to act as go-betweens, having seen their parents drift away from other family members. But their stubborn parents won’t budge.

I understand why both daughters are unhappy with the status quo, in part because they have had to step up a lot more. As they have pointed out, the next time the family is gathered in a room, one of them won’t be there, because it will be for a funeral.

As for me, I don’t regret the consequences because, to be honest, life is much sweeter (for me) without them.