You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, tackling every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with the disease. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and big frames. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I like entertaining. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. 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. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her chest, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the stage in a musical (she was cast 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 irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the girl group Soul Deep while attending 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 collision and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
