You can’t imagine it, the singer states. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for a decade, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later next release, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, referencing the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Jessie is quick, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers 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 weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with career highs, acting as a reminder, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already beginning performing in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio the group while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
