You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, on top of the world. Then in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, real name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while all the while coping with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an slot at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. 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 avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. 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 upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or shock, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and young Jessica has entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
