You wouldn’t believe it, the singer states. There she was readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, on top of the world. Then in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The first single, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly coping with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and big frames. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her standup debut soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I often tease the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was planning an slot at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my one side now looks like a odd shape.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to remind her not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
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 nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Wow, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
