You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly living with breast cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an slot at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my one side now appears as a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already making her debut performing in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and young Jessica has joined the girl group the group while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
