You can’t imagine it, Jessie J states. At that moment readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and large glasses. Picture biker chic 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, referencing the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Cornish is quick, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. They lead you. During crises you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a gown on and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal recently and my affected breast now looks like a odd shape.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or shock, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
