You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then second single, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with the disease. A month later she shared the news, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her standup debut soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I 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 frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you are wheeled, but then I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the stage in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several 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 ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
