You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The musician, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, her latest release, was meant as an candid account, tackling every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later next release, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with the disease. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was planning an slot at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after a long hiatus and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have shown aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her chest, she notes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while attending the performing arts 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 throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
