You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. There she was preparing for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she had a mastectomy.
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 ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with ornate white designs, beige footwear and big frames. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I basically roast the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ 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 she had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after eight years without an album and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened recently and my affected breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
