You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, on top of the world. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometriosis, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while coping with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Picture biker chic meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. Cornish is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I often tease the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was preparing for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my one side now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already making her debut featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
