You can’t imagine it, Jessie J remarks. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an candid account, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while at the same time living with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she 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 wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and big frames. Imagine rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut in the coming year. “I like entertaining. On stage I basically roast the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands 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 serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery 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 gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to health crises. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has entered the trio the group while attending the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
