You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, miscarriage, broken romances, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. She is quick, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut soon. “I like entertaining. When performing I basically roast the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was planning an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d call on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a gown on and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy recently and my affected breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish 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 professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the London theater in the production (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band the group while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
