Marbella, Spain – August 17, 2025 – Yvonne Padmos, a Dutch actress, writer, and commercial model born in the Netherlands, returned to Marbella on August 10, 2025, to advance her multi-season TV series Ella in Marbella, a philosophical project born from years of battling depression and trauma. With only €40, sleeping in a restaurant storage room, and enduring an epilepsy and CPTSD episode, Padmos worked five days, learning valuable lessons while staying committed to her dream, distinct from her goal of producing 50 future film scripts.

“I’m the silly girl holding onto dreams,” she says. “Depression and horrible past experiences kept me hiding in notebooks, but this is my real life. I feel stronger than ever, counting blessings and embracing my film characters to feel less alone.”

Years ago, Padmos visited the mountain home of a kind but busy Marbella restaurant owner, where she wrote Ella in Marbella amid horses and his dog, feeling she had a friend for once. On August 9, 2025, at 7:30 p.m., desperate and determined not to “jump out of life” after past suicide attempts, she called him to discuss Ella, a series reflecting a strong, respected woman who is part of her. “I was in shock but grateful he agreed to talk,” she says, fearing he thought her “just a stupid blond.”


Arriving on August 10 with €40, where “people park Ferraris in front of Mercadona,” she expected a meeting. Instead, he asked, “What exactly do you want?” She replied, “I need a miracle. I need a job,” hoping to stay on his mountain as some employees did years ago. He offered a public-facing role, smiling and welcoming guests from 11:00 to 16:30 and 19:30 to 00:00 daily.

“Great, thanks!” she laughed, starting immediately despite no sleep and no place to stay.
The owner promised a sleeping arrangement, but it was the storage room next to beer and alcohol crates. “I don’t even drink!” Padmos laughs. “It’s at the beach—hotels cost a fortune for that view!” She earned daily tips, free breakfasts, and meals, paid for her smile. “Not bad,” she says, though she tipped taxi drivers despite her finances, feeling embarrassed otherwise.



The storage was unhygienic, with urine from late-night partiers and water leakage from cleaning and a faulty roof. “I’m a writer with germaphobia, washing my hands constantly. I’m not a dog!” she exclaims.

Padmos worked August 10 and 11. On August 12, a Tuesday, she felt unwell, sat on a chair, and suffered an epilepsy and CPTSD episode. “I got flashes—like a light turning on and off. I fell to the floor and was unconscious for 25 minutes, they told me in the hospital. People screamed, ‘Don’t fall asleep!’ and ‘Look her in the eyes!’ but I only saw flashes.” In the ambulance, she awoke to sirens, asking, “Is it that bad?” The paramedic said, “We gave you oxygen.” At the hospital, she had an MRI and scans on her head and chest. The doctor wanted blood tests, but Padmos, needing the storage key before midnight, said, “I can’t stay longer or I won’t have a place to sleep.”


On August 13, while eating with colleagues, a man with Marbella-based actor and event organizer Richy Castellanos said, “We were worried about you.” Confused, Padmos told her supervisor, “I’ve never seen him.” Her supervisor replied, “He saw you on the floor.” Padmos worried, “Great, now I’m known as the weak person who fell off a chair, and since they all know each other, he probably knows I’m broke.” A strong female supervisor encouraged her: “Life isn’t forever—what are you afraid of? Make those films!” Inspired, Padmos worked August 13 and 14, smiling, but the night before August 14, she couldn’t sleep due to party people and urine in the storage, leading her to decide against sleeping there again. She wrote to the owner about Ella and the storage conditions. On August 15, she worked but wanted to talk to the owner in the morning. He didn’t show. He promised to arrive at 20:00, but instead, his wife appeared, handing Padmos €150, saying it was for three days. Exhausted from sleeplessness, Padmos didn’t realize she had worked five days and agreed to the payment, which she found shockingly low for Spain but accepted. “I learned a lot and had a great experience,” she says, grateful for the inspiration from the mountain home that birthed Ella. The owner preferred she keep working, but with no alternative sleeping place, she refused to sleep in the storage’s urine again, decided to let it all go, and left at 19:00 on August 15.

“I told guests I had a ‘great hotel room’—as an actress, I make it work,” she says. “Smiling is a free jewel. Everyone has their own story, working hard for their vacation.” Without a home, she uses a gym to shower and a storage for clothes, showing how to survive. “I was ashamed until the ambulance came and I didn’t fall into a coma. Shame is nonsense—I’m human, I breathe, I live, thanks to oxygen,” she laughs, recalling a Dutch commercial where someone in hardship says, “Het komt goed schatje.”

Ella in Marbella, with multiple seasons written, blends humor and philosophy. Padmos’s 50 film scripts, chronicled in 50 Scripts: Yvonne Padmos’ Hollywood Journey (in development as a film), were featured in The Globe and Mail. “As the Dutch say, ‘wie schrijft, die blijft’—those who write, endure,” she shares.

Padmos seeks sponsors (€5,000–€15,000) for Ella in Marbella, offering acknowledgments in books, end credits, and media coverage. She will host a networking event during the Marbella International Film Festival in October 2025.
For sponsorship opportunities, contact Yvonne Padmos at [email protected]