You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The first single, her single No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while at the same time living with breast cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they inquire, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and oversized specs. Think rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Jessie is quick, bold and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was getting ready for an appearance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then the singer had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after eight years without an album and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a gown on and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Amusingly 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
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in health crises. Frequently they align with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already making her debut featuring in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
