You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
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 candid account, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, losing a baby, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later next release, Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time living with the disease. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut in the coming year. “I like entertaining. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an slot at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but then I just strolled down with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her chest, she observes, are now “different sizes. 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 difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly 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
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s used to medical emergencies. Frequently they align with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or shock, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. 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 long period.”
Wow, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
