You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment readying for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an candid account, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then next release, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while all the while living with breast cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, beige footwear and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is quick, bold and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but now I just marched with a gown on and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
