You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. At that moment readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show soon. “I like entertaining. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was planning an appearance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
She is familiar with health problems. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her youth, already making her debut featuring in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
