You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time coping with the disease. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an slot at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘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 scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now looks like a odd shape.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s used to health crises. Many times they occur alongside career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already starting her career performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
