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You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was found to have cancer in her breast.

The singer-songwriter, birth name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with the disease. A month later she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.

She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.

We’re at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Think rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is quick, bold and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I like entertaining. When performing I often tease the audience.”

Medical Challenges and Discovery

She was planning an appearance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.

“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”

I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself

She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but then I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my affected breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”

The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”

Previous Struggles

She is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”

She reminisces to her childhood, already starting her career featuring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and young Jessica has become part of the female band the group while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”

Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees