You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. There she was readying for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Later second single, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly dealing with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with ornate white designs, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut soon. “I like entertaining. When performing I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was 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 Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just walked with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
She is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with moments of success for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already making her debut starring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and young Jessica has become part of the female band Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
