You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. There she was preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an transparent story, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was talking to press about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, cream boots and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I often tease the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. During crises you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy recently and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Ironically 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.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside career highs, acting as a reminder, or shock, to highlight not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her youth, already starting her career starring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio 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 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
