You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was meant as an open book, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is fast-thinking, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but this time I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery 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 outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. They have often coincided with career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and young Jessica has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
