You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, tackling every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, broken romances, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in May and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ 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 considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but then I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy recently and my affected breast now looks like a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with health crises. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘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 affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the stage in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a year.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
