You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The artist, birth name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an transparent story, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly living with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but then I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s experienced in physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut starring in the stage in the production (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
