You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later second single, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and oversized specs. Picture rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Cornish is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the awards show when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. During crises you are wheeled, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened a few months back and my one side now resembles a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and teenage Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
