You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. There she was readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The album, her latest release, was meant as an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later second single, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while still secretly dealing with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an test, 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 suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a gown on and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now appears as a odd shape.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already starting her career performing in the London theater in the production (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band the group while enrolled in the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
