You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J says. There she was readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, was released in May and the artist was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly living with breast cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and big frames. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I enjoy humor. On stage I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just strolled down with a medical attire and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the stage in the production (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia 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 skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has joined the trio the group while attending the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
