You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, on top of the world. Then in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in London. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
