You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then second single, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the movie. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. During performances I often tease the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call 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, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but this time I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, 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.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. Frequently they align with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already making her debut featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and young Jessica has entered the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
