You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with breast cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was getting ready for an slot at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now appears as a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in health crises. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her youth, already beginning starring in the West End in the production (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was found to have the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending 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 voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
