You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. At that moment readying for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was found to have cancer in her breast.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, her single No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time living with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Jessie is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the awards show when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after years away and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt 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 hate being put under. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but then I just walked with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Frequently they align with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut starring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
