You can’t imagine it, the singer states. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The artist, actual name Jess Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was intended as an candid account, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then second single, Living My Best Life, was released in May and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if 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 grins. Cornish is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. 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 terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but then I just walked with a gown on and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, acting as a reminder, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already beginning performing in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has joined the trio the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
