You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, actual name Jess Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time dealing with breast cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, bold and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now resembles a odd shape.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in health crises. Frequently they align with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? 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 recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the London theater in a musical (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 tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band the group while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
