You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ 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 youth, already beginning featuring in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
