You wouldn’t believe it, the singer states. At that moment preparing 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 struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later next release, Living My Best Life, was released in May and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Think rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Jessie is fast-thinking, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an slot at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ 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 considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but then I just walked with a gown on and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to health crises. They have often coincided with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and young Jessica has entered the female band the group while attending the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
