You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. At that moment readying for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, on top of the world. Then in March she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last made an album (endometriosis, miscarriage, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then second single, Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was planning an appearance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her childhood, already starting her career performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
