You can’t imagine it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometriosis, miscarriage, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then next release, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, cream boots and big frames. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was getting ready for an appearance at the awards show when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after years away and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my one side now resembles a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
She is familiar with health problems. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with career highs, acting as a reminder, or blow, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her childhood, already beginning performing in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
