You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. There she was preparing for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly living with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with ornate white designs, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is fast-thinking, bold and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I often tease the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, 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. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to highlight not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Oi, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
