You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J says. At that moment readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name Jessica Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while living with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Jessie is sharp-witted, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I often tease the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her chest, she observes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to remind her not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). 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 was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio the group while enrolled in the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
