You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, real name Jessica Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was meant as an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I often tease the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought 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 considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy recently and my one side now appears as a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her youth, already making her debut featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
