You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, real name Jessica Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, her latest release, was intended as an candid account, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with her cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I often tease the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was planning an performance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
The singer is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
