You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. There she was gearing up for her comeback record in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her first comedy performance next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an slot at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal recently 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 boobs, she remarks, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. They have often coincided with career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her youth, already beginning starring in the London theater in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and young Jessica has entered the trio Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
