You wouldn’t believe it, the singer remarks. At that moment readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an candid account, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with the disease. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and large glasses. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have indicated malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. They walk you down. During crises you are wheeled, but now I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. 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 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 upbeat because she’s experienced in physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or shock, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and teenage Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
