You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J says. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, birth name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly living with her cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Imagine motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her standup debut next year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I often tease the fans.”
The artist was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. During crises you go on a gurney, but this time I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal four months ago and my right breast now appears as a odd shape.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
She is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to remind her not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
A historian and collector of royal memorabilia with a passion for British heritage.