You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, real name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was meant as an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, miscarriage, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later second single, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with breast cancer. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after years away and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you are wheeled, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now appears as a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band the group while studying at the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
