You wouldn’t believe it, the singer remarks. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jessica Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly coping with breast cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and large glasses. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. She is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show in the coming year. “I like entertaining. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an slot at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. 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 terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! It’s funny because 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.”
Past Medical Issues
She is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the stage in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and young Jessica has joined the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Wow, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
