You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. At that moment readying for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while coping with the disease. A month later she went public, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and large glasses. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an scan, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened a few months back and my affected breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! 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. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the heart condition WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band the group while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
