🔗 Share this article

You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was told she had cancer in her breast.

The musician, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, tackling every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with breast cancer. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she had a mastectomy.

She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.

We’re at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Jessie is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I enjoy humor. When performing I often tease the fans.”

Personal Battles and News

She was planning an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then the singer had assured herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.

“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”

I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself

She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you are wheeled, but now I just walked with a gown on and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal recently and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”

The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”

A History of Health Challenges

Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or shock, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”

She recalls to her childhood, already beginning performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a collision and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”

Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees