You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, tackling every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the film. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her standup debut in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy recently and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is familiar with health problems. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to health crises. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career featuring in the West End in the production (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the heart condition WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
