You couldn’t make it up, Jessie J says. There she was preparing for her comeback record in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is quick, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was getting ready for an slot at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but now I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my one side now resembles a odd shape.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Past Medical Issues
She is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut starring 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 Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. At just 17? She nods|agrees
