You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. There she was readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, birth name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was intended as an candid account, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Then next release, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly living with breast cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging 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 op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut performing in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and young Jessica has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
