You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. There she was readying for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
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 ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and big frames. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, 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 been interested in humor and is aiming for her initial standup show soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was planning an appearance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then the singer had assured herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is familiar with health problems. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career featuring in the London theater in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
