You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J says. There she was readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, on top of the world. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with breast cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ 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 suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is familiar with health problems. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
