You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. There she was readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, broken romances, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and large glasses. Think motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Jessie is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy 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.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her youth, already beginning featuring in the stage in the production (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has joined the girl group the group while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
