You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. There she was readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly living with the disease. Four weeks after she shared the news, 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 doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, off-white boots and large glasses. Picture motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I enjoy humor. When performing I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was planning an appearance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy recently and my affected breast now appears as a odd shape.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! 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. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with career highs, acting as a reminder, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and young Jessica has entered the female band Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
