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 newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with ornate white designs, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an slot at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just strolled down with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her childhood, already beginning featuring in the stage in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
