You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J remarks. There she was preparing for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was meant as an candid account, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The first single, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with the disease. A month later she went public, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Picture motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I often tease the fans.”
She was preparing for an slot at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an test, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be fine, 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 biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you are wheeled, but now I just walked with a gown on and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now resembles a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or blow, to remind her not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her childhood, already starting her career starring in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group the group while enrolled in the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
A certified wellness coach and holistic health advocate with over a decade of experience in natural healing practices.