You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, birth name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicide) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later next release, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Think rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the movie. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the start of the week. By then the singer had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now resembles a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or shock, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already making her debut featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
