

After decades of being everything to everyone else, there's a woman underneath all of that who has been waiting. Patiently. This is her time.
If you're somewhere between who you were and who you're becoming, if the roles that once defined you have shifted, a relationship has ended, or you've simply woken up one day and realised the life you built no longer fits who you are, you're not lost.
You're at a threshold.
And what happens next depends entirely on one thing: whether you're willing to finally, honestly, meet yourself.
That's what EncoreU is built for.

At 55, I had every external marker of a woman who had it together.
A career I'd built from the ground up. A life that looked, from the outside, like success. And inside a quiet, persistent feeling that something essential was missing. That the woman I'd been becoming for decades wasn't quite me.
Then everything shifted at once. My father died. Two dear friends followed. A relationship I had given everything to ended. And the business I'd poured myself into began to unravel, not because I hadn't worked hard enough, but because I had spent years choosing from the wrong version of myself.
I wasn't broken. But I was finished pretending that the life I had built was the life I was meant to live.
What pulled me through wasn't a plan. It was a question not what went wrong, but who am I becoming?
The answer surprised me completely. I became a recording artist. A performer. A woman who finally stopped letting fear make her decisions. Not because I became fearless but because I finally knew myself clearly enough to choose differently.
I built EncoreU because every woman deserves what I eventually found: a clear, honest map for this terrain. Not a makeover. Not a career pivot strategy. A genuine reckoning with who you are so that everything you build next is built on that foundation.
If you're standing at your own threshold, I know this place. And I know the way through.
— Gia Levé, Founder, EncoreU











I love the idea of reinventing myself, but I’m already in my 60s. Isn’t it too late?
The women who ask this question are usually the ones who need this work the most because somewhere along the way, someone taught them to ask permission before taking up space.
I want to gently reflect something back to you: the fact that you're uncertain whether you deserve this investment is exactly why this work exists.
You have spent years possibly decades being the one who holds everything together. The caregiver. The fixer. The woman everyone leans on. And somewhere in all of that, the habit of putting yourself last became so deeply ingrained that it no longer even feels like a choice. It just feels like who you are.
But here's what I've seen in the women I work with: when you do this work when you finally invest in knowing yourself, in understanding your patterns, in building a foundation that's genuinely yours you don't become less available to the people you love. You become more present. More grounded. More genuinely there.
You cannot pour from empty. And the most generous thing you can do for everyone in your life is to stop running on fumes and start living from fullness.
You have given so much, for so long. This is not indulgence. This is necessary.
I hear this often and I always ask the same gentle question in return: what are you spending that time on instead?
Not to be provocative. But because most of the women who tell me they don't have time are spending enormous energy quietly managing the weight of feeling stuck the low-grade anxiety of a life that doesn't quite fit, the exhaustion of performing a version of themselves they've outgrown, the mental overhead of wondering: is this all there is?
That costs time too. It just doesn't show up on a calendar.
The 7-week RISE Journey is designed for women with full lives. It doesn't ask you to disappear from your world it asks you to show up for yourself within it. Most women find that the clarity they gain in those seven weeks gives them back far more than they invested.
And the deeper truth is this: there will never be a perfect window of time. There will always be something. The woman who waits for the right moment usually looks back and wishes she hadn't.
The best time to begin was years ago. The second best time is now.
