You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, on top of the world. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jessica Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an open book, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later next release, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while still secretly dealing with the disease. A month later she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Cornish is fast-thinking, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut in the coming year. “I like entertaining. During performances I basically roast the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have shown malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They walk you down. During crises you are wheeled, but this time I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened a few months back and my affected breast now resembles a odd shape.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s used to health crises. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to remind her not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already beginning featuring in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and young Jessica has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
