Tessa Tookes has been looking for a wedding dress before, but nothing compared to a dress she found while scrolling through Instagram. When the 28-year-old New York model discovered a boutique that carried the dress, she traveled to Ontario, Canada, to try it on.

“It really felt like the ‘say yes to the dress’ moment I was looking for,” said Tookes, who met her fiancé Joey Kirchner on the second season of “Bachelor in Paradise Canada,” which premiered in 2023. “But then the conversation took a turn.”

As Tookes stood on the podium in her dream dress, boutique staff grabbed two brown cups. The cups already built into the dress were beige, meaning “nude” – and free – but if she wanted the dress’s undergarments to match her skin color, she had to pay an extra $200.

The experience immediately reminded Tookes of her high school dance performances, she said, when she had to “tint” her pink ballet shoes with foundation and dye her tights “flesh-colored” with tea bags to match her skin.

“I just took the information in silence and felt uncomfortable,” Tookes, who was the only person of color in the store at the time, told USA TODAY. “Until that moment, I wasn’t really conscious of my black skin color. It was incredibly isolating and I felt very excluded.”

According to Mariel Buqué, psychologist and author of “Break the Cycle: A Guide to Healing Intergenerational Trauma,” this is not an isolated case even in 2024, as many fashion and beauty brands are making great strides in inclusivity.

“It sends a clear message that women with darker skin are viewed as ‘different’ and secondary in the industry,” said Buqué. “This can cause emotional trauma that impacts a bride’s joy at such an important event in her life, her sense of self-worth and her sense of self-worth – damaging effects that can even last well beyond her big day.”

A video of Tooke’s fiancé describing the incident has garnered more than 3 million views and over 709,000 comments, some of which have come from Black wedding dress designers offering to professionally dye the cups for free or make her dress completely custom. In the profanity-laced video, Kirchner calls on wedding dress designers to take note: “You should be called out,” he says firmly, pointing to the camera. “Figure it out.”

The boutique in question contacted Tookes after watching the video and offered to pay the full price for the wedding dress. Tookes thought this was generous, but “didn’t necessarily get to the heart of the matter.”

Looking back, Tookes said she could have said something in the moment, but she wanted to avoid being seen as a “bridezilla.” Besides, it shouldn’t be her responsibility: “Having to defend the color of your skin just doesn’t feel fair.”

Women did not hold back in expressing their solidarity online, with some reporting similar experiences in bridal shops, while others were shocked that staff in Tookes’ case even dared to mention the surcharge.

But it’s okay to be speechless in this situation, says Buqué, even if you want to say something.

“When we experience an event where we feel like we don’t belong or aren’t being heard, it can leave us emotionally frozen. Know that even a reaction of immobility is not your fault, nor is it the wrong reaction,” Buqué said. “It’s simply your body’s way of figuring out how to protect you in a hurtful situation. And when this type of experience is the norm, which is the case for Black women, immobility is even more likely.”

Buqué encourages women to voice their complaints and concerns if they want to, but she says it’s important to put well-being first. “And always remember to tell yourself mentally that you matter, that your skin color is beautiful and worthy of recognition and equal consideration.”

It’s just as helpful to go home and reflect on what happened to the people you trust and love. That’s what Tookes did when she answered a text from her future mother-in-law about the dress appointment about a week later. Then she told her fiancé.

“That was the moment when I actually accepted and acknowledged how I felt about this experience,” said Tookes, who was pleasantly surprised to find such a “wonderful online community” offering support.

“Being seen and heard without much effort and explanation is healing in itself,” said Buqué, “and can be an effective antidote to the discrimination suffered.”

Katheleen Isaac, a psychotherapist and owner of HEAL’D, a psychotherapy and ethnic literacy consulting practice, said Tookes’ experience was “a reflection of where we are in society” but could help spark needed change.

“Hopefully this is an opportunity for all industries to think about how they can make their products, spaces and environments more inclusive,” Isaac said. “It’s unfortunate that we’re still having to grapple with these issues. It may seem like a small thing, but for people who are going through these experiences, it can be really serious.”

Tookes said she’s left the chaos with her wedding dress “hanging in the air” for now. Although she already put down a deposit on the dress after opting for the “bare” cups, which she planned to dye herself, she’s now considering working with one of the many Black designers who have come forward to make a dress for her. “It just fits much more with how I feel about this issue and my desire to support and empower this community of women.”

And for other brides of color who may be worried about facing similar situations, Tookes has some advice: “I think we’re all aware of the potential experiences we could have if we feel like our skin color and our bodies aren’t represented in these environments. But think about treating yourself to a positive and magical wedding dress shopping experience, and go in with the expectation that you may have to advocate for yourself.”

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Bachelor in Paradise couple Tessa and Joey on the wedding dress horror story