You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with breast cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is sharp-witted, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an performance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d contact on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened a few months back and my one side now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to remind her not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her youth, already beginning featuring in the West End in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band the group while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
