You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with her cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” 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 sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Think biker chic meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Jessie is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the following my 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 Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt 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. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my right breast now appears as a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is familiar with health problems. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already making her debut starring in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
