You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. There she was readying for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, birth name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicide) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later next release, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly coping with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, referencing the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Jessie is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was planning an appearance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my right breast now appears as a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her youth, already beginning performing in the West End in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
