You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with the disease. A month later she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Jessie is quick, irreverent and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I often tease the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just marched with a hospital gown and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal recently and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her chest, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already making her debut starring in the London theater in the production (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the girl group the group while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
