You can’t imagine it, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an open book, addressing every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, miscarriage, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later next release, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was planning an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient 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, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great 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 found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal recently and my one side now appears as a odd shape.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her childhood, already making her debut starring in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Wow, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
