You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J states. There she was readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with her cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and big frames. Picture biker chic meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Jessie is quick, irreverent and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut in the coming year. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just marched with a hospital gown and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
The singer is familiar with health problems. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and young Jessica has become part of the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
