‘It has taught me to embrace life more’: Jessie J on cancer, career returns and cracking China

You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.

The musician, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with the disease. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.

She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.

We’re at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I often tease the audience.”

Personal Battles and News

Cornish was planning an slot at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; 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 rise.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had many commitments.

“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”

I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself

She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a gown on and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal recently and my one side now looks like a odd shape.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”

The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”

Previous Struggles

She is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”

She recalls to her youth, already making her debut starring in the London theater in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio the group while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”

Hey, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees