You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, real name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an open book, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her standup debut in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was planning an slot at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my affected breast now resembles a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 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 am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
