You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. There she was preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was found to have cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, tackling every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her first comedy performance next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious 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 many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. 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. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band the group while attending the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
