You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. There she was preparing for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was intended as an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly dealing with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you are wheeled, but then I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
