In a decade full of outlaw anthems, trucking songs, and Conway Twitty slow burns, nobody saw this one coming.
Released at the tail end of 1976, “Torn Between Two Lovers” arrived with a quiet voice and a complicated message. The singer, Mary MacGregor, was virtually unknown. The song wasn’t written by country royalty or even Music Row insiders, but it was penned by Peter Yarrow (of Peter, Paul & Mary) and Muscle Shoals songwriter Phillip Jarrell. It wasn’t exactly outlaw country, but a curveball landed squarely in country radio’s lap. And somehow, it worked.
This ballad didn’t just flirt with moral ambiguity. It sat in it. The lyrics? A woman straight-up tells her man she’s in love with someone else and wants to keep them both. “Loving both of you is breaking all the rules,” she confesses, right before asking the guy not to leave. That’s not subtle. That’s not shy. That’s brazen.
And America didn’t blink. The song shot to number one on the pop charts, hit number three on the Billboard country chart, and spent weeks at the top of the adult contemporary rankings. Soft rock radio welcomed it with open arms. So did country radio. And that’s the real twist. This delicate-sounding pop ballad landed with the same audience that was lining up to hear Waylon and Willie rail against the system.
MacGregor herself didn’t write the song and wasn’t particularly fond of its message either. In interviews, she made it clear she didn’t sympathize with the woman in the lyrics. She was just the voice. But her clear, vulnerable, and emotionally reserved voice made the impossible premise feel intimate. It was the delivery that sold the lie. And it was convincing.
Country music, for all its talk of values and heartland truths, has always had a soft spot for cheating songs. From Hank Williams’ “Your Cheatin’ Heart” to Loretta Lynn’s “You Ain’t Woman Enough,” there’s a long tradition of airing out messy love lives through three-minute sermons. But “Torn Between Two Lovers” flipped the usual script. It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t vengeful. It was calm. Matter-of-fact. Like confessing an affair over coffee.
The country audience didn’t reject it. It fit right into a landscape where Charlie Rich’s smooth piano ballads and Dolly Parton’s vulnerable storytelling coexisted with outlaw edge. Country, after all, doesn’t always have to sound like steel guitars and Texas grit. Sometimes, it sneaks in with a string section and a soft-spoken voice asking for permission to break your heart twice.
As for MacGregor, the song would go on to define her career. She had other recordings, but none came close to touching the success of “Torn Between Two Lovers.” And in classic one-hit wonder fashion, that one song was enough to earn her awards, airtime, and a permanent spot on ’70s playlists.
But it’s not just a pop relic. Country still remembers it. Johnny Rodriguez covered the song, which helped give it even more legs with traditional country fans. And while it never became a honky-tonk anthem, it still holds the rare distinction of being one of the most politely delivered cheating songs to ever break through on country radio.
It’s easy to laugh at a song that asks someone to be okay with being second fiddle, but that’s kind of the point. “Torn Between Two Lovers” worked because it was honest. Messy, yes, but real. It didn’t justify cheating, but it didn’t apologize for it either. And in the world of country music, there’s always been room for both.