You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J says. There she was readying for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then second single, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Frequently they align with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
