You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, actual name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly coping with her cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her standup debut in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was preparing for an slot at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just walked with a gown on and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my right breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. 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. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
