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You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.

The musician, actual name Jessica Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.

She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.

We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is quick, bold and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the crowd.”

Personal Battles and News

She was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had a busy schedule.

“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘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 viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just walked with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my affected breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”

The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”

Past Medical Issues

The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to highlight 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 always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”

She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”

Oi, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees