You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the awards show when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘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 scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s used to health crises. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her childhood, already making her debut performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (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 irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
