You can’t imagine it, the singer says. At that moment readying for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Picture motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is quick, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ 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 answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now looks like a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. 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.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her youth, already starting her career performing in the London theater in a musical (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Oi, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
