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You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. There she was preparing for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.

The artist, actual name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with the disease. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.

She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.

We’re at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and oversized specs. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Jessie is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the crowd.”

Health Struggles and Diagnosis

Cornish was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.

“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ 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 scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but then I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”

The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”

A History of Health Challenges

She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”

She takes me back to her childhood, already starting her career performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio the group while studying at the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”

Hey, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees