You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly dealing with her cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Picture rocker vibe meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is fast-thinking, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the London theater in the production (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
