You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. There she was preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is fast-thinking, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is planning to attempt her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after years away and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have come back as malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now appears as a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and teenage Jess has joined the girl group the group while attending the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
