You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The first single, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time dealing with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, bold and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I basically roast the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was planning an slot at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then the singer had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“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, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened recently and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s used to health crises. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, 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 moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already starting her career starring in the stage in a musical (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness 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 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
