You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. There she was gearing up for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, on top of the world. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, broken romances, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she 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, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following 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 persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
She is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to health crises. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
