You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. There she was readying for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name J. Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then second single, 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 at the same time coping with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, cream boots and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Jessie is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. When performing I often tease the audience.”
She was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she observes, 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 rough time. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has often paired with high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already beginning featuring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the girl group Soul Deep while enrolled in the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
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