🔗 Share this article

You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.

The artist, actual name Jessica Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then next release, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while still secretly coping with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.

She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.

We meet at a photo studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Picture biker chic meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Jessie is quick, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the audience.”

Medical Challenges and Discovery

The artist was planning an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had so much on.

“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”

Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am

She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but now I just strolled down with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”

The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she observes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”

Previous Struggles

The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”

She takes me back to her childhood, already starting her career featuring in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a year.”

Wow, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees