At the PartyPoker Tour in Seville, I met Kristina Rutia and Paola Morrondo — two players at very different stages of their poker journeys, yet united by something powerful: the decision to show up.
For Paola, this was her first time ever playing poker in person.
“It was the last opportunity I had to come, and I just came,” she tells me, smiling. Work had almost made it impossible. With only one free day in an otherwise packed schedule, she nearly didn’t make it. Online poker had always fit her life better — fast, flexible, something you can dip in and out of. Live poker felt like a different commitment altogether.
And yet, encouraged by her boyfriend Marcos, she took the leap.
“I was really nervous,” she admits. “I’d never sat down with people playing right next to me.”
That first experience could easily have been overwhelming. Instead, it became something else entirely.
“The people were really encouraging. They told me I played well. It made me want to keep going.”
Kristina’s story begins differently, but arrives at a similar place.
Originally from Zaragoza, she had played poker casually with family and friends. But everything changed when she started watching professional games online.
“It felt like a completely different world,” she says. “I couldn’t quite grasp the nuances.”
That changed when her partner Yeyu introduced her to the deeper mechanics of the game.
“He said to me, ‘Son of a gun, you’re playing better than me!’ That was it. From that moment, I never looked back.”
Since then, poker has become central not just to her life, but to her relationship. And travel is a huge part of the appeal.
“I love going to different places. That’s one of the best things about the PartyPoker tour.”
Of course, the reality is not always glamorous.
“Sometimes you’re playing until 5am. There’s no way I’m getting up at 9am to explore the city,” she laughs. “But it’s worth it. After all, I’m here for the poker.”
What makes this story particularly compelling is that Kristina and Paola met here in Seville.
A shared experience at the tables quickly turned into a friendship — and now, a plan.
They want to travel together to future poker stops, building a small but growing community of women who can support each other.
“There were only four women and more than a hundred men,” Paola says. “I almost didn’t come because of that.”
But she did.
And Kristina is quick to point out that things are changing.
“I always notice how many women are playing. And there are more and more of us.”
Visibility matters. Representation matters. And interestingly, she notes that even in online spaces, gender plays a role.
“A lot of usernames are female, even when men are playing. People assume women are weaker players.”
It’s a revealing insight into the psychology of the game — and the quiet strategies that shape it.
Online poker and live poker, both agree, are two completely different beasts.
Online, you can get used to patterns, styles, and rhythms. In person, everything shifts. You read the room. You read people. You learn again.
And yet, platforms like PartyPoker make that transition possible.
They offer real accessibility — the chance to qualify, to try, to step into the live arena without barriers that once felt insurmountable.
For Paola, that opportunity made all the difference.
“This is just the beginning,” she says.
Seville, too, plays its part.
There is something about the city — its warmth, its openness, its energy — that mirrors the atmosphere at the tables. Even among strangers, there is a sense of ease. The games are not silent, tense spaces. People talk. They help. They encourage.
And then there is everything else: the food, the weather, the rhythm of the streets.
It is a city that welcomes you, even if you have never been before.
At the tables, Kristina is effortlessly stylish, adorned with poker-inspired accessories. Paola, with her distinctive glasses, brings her own sharp edge.
Poker, here, is not just a game. It is becoming something else — a space of identity, style, and community.
And perhaps most importantly, it is becoming a space where women feel they can belong.
They are still nervous. That doesn’t disappear overnight.
But they are playing anyway.
And that is where everything begins.
