You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then second single, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time living with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Think motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut soon. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling 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 doctor told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s used to medical emergencies. 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 the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut starring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
