You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J states. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, actual name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The album, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly living with breast cancer. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I often tease the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was planning an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘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 doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to highlight not to be complacent. “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 affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already starting her career featuring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and young Jessica has joined the female band the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
