You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later next release, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, 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, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Think biker chic meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I often tease the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was preparing for an performance at the awards show when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They lead you. During crises you go on a gurney, but this time I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my affected breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is familiar with health problems. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
