You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, addressing every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with characteristic openness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while still secretly dealing with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is fast-thinking, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. 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 found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now resembles a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! 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.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
