You can’t imagine it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, on top of the world. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, losing a baby, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with the disease. A month later she shared the news, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was planning an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to highlight not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut starring in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and teenage Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
