You wouldn’t believe it, the singer states. There she was readying for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was meant as an candid account, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly coping with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Picture motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but this time I just marched with a gown on and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now appears as a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in health crises. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already beginning featuring in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and young Jessica has become part of the girl group the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
