You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. There she was readying for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly coping with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and big frames. Picture motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
She was preparing for an appearance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after 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 persuaded herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already starting her career performing in the London theater in the production (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
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