You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. There she was preparing for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was found to have cancer in her breast.
The artist, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was intended as an candid account, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and the artist was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time living with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Jessie is fast-thinking, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but now I just walked with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal recently and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. 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 year.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
