You can’t imagine it, Jessie J says. At that moment readying for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an candid account, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later next release, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with the disease. Subsequently she shared the news, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and oversized specs. Think rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is quick, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album 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 join the call believing it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected 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 lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has joined the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a 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 couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
