You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an open book, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her youth, already starting her career starring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
