You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. At that moment readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love 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 spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then next release, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while all the while living with the disease. A month later she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Jessie is sharp-witted, bold and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her standup debut next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was getting ready for an slot at the awards show when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just strolled down with a medical attire and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her youth, already making her debut performing in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has entered the female band Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
