You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment gearing up for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, real name J. Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then next release, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, cream boots and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is quick, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I basically roast the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do 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 reach out on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ 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 continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to highlight not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut featuring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
